Too Clever By Far
by Gamana
Summary: Harry finds out that he was Salazar Slytherin in a past life. He learns to live with the knowledge while teetering between unfailing loyalty and the urge to tinker with fate. Under Revision
1. Chapter I

Harry suddenly awoke from a dream that he could not recall to find himself standing somewhere in the middle of the Forbidden Forest. He could have sworn that a moment ago he was warm and safe in his comfy four-poster in the Gryffindor boy's dorm. What he saw around him belied that belief. He was standing in what could only be termed a minor brake in the expansive foliage of the forest. Harry glared angerly at the blurry shape of a tree before him. Evidently his glasses were still on his bedside table, along with his wand.

He scanned the area around him as best he could, but saw nothing familiar. Not that there would have been anything to recognize. Harry had only been in the Forbidden Forest three times in his tenure at Hogwarts, always with someone else, and he assumed never this far in. Now he was all alone and admittedly scared, cold too. He wrapped his arms around his thin, bare chest and shivered. "If only they could see their Golden Boy now," Harry muttered darkly. Instinct told him to get his back to a tree. He moved to lean against the nearest of the ancient trees and tried to think of what to do next.

Harry silently took stock of his situation: one, he was out in the middle of the Forbidden Forest; two, he was willing to bet that the way out was the opposite way from the direction he was facing when he woke; three, he did not know what creatures lay between him and Hogwarts; four, he was as good as blind. All he could see were blurred shapes, and any creatures he ran into would have to be up close and personal for him to know they were there, let alone what they were. Harry shuddered, getting that close to some of the creatures of the forest did not appeal to him. He looked down at himself and dug his bare toes into the forest floor. Five, he was only wearing his pajama bottoms; six, no wand.

He shivered again. It was cold, very cold. He would have to find a way to warm up soon. Harry most keenly felt the absence of his wand. Without it he was defenseless. He could not help but think that now would be a good time for Voldemort to jump out from behind a bush and kill him.

"Don't worry young one, you are perfectly safe." A melodious voice drifted down from above Harry's head. He looked around for its source. "Over here," the voice called. There was a soft thud to his right. Harry quickly scrambled away from it. A shadowy blob moved toward him from where it had jumped out of a tree.

"Who- who are you?" Harry stammered, half in surprise, half from the cold.

"A friend," answered the soft lilting voice. Harry felt very stupid for being afraid. This person didn't act like they wanted to hurt him. "There is no need to worry young Harry. My name is Rowan. I'm here to help you." She spoke as if he were a cornered animal.

Harry relaxed at the words. He did not want to trust her, but, for some reason, he did. "You brought me here." At Rowan's nod he asked "Why?"

The figure in front of him shifted ever so slightly. "I have come to show you the truth."

Harry squinted at the blurry figure that he thought was a woman. He then burst out into a fit of incredulous laughter. "Show me the truth? You lure me out of bed in the middle of the night just to show me the truth!" He gasped out. "Are you an actor in a second rate television program or just stupid? Besides, if you haven't noticed I am half blind without my glasses—you did do some research before pulling this little stunt, right? It would be pointless to show me "the truth" when I can't even see it." Harry dissolved into giggles again, clutching his abused stomach. He idly began to wonder about his sanity.

The girl put her hands on her hips and let out an exasperated puff of air. "Boy's," she muttered and pressed her lips together. "Well," she said in a brisk tone, "If your eyesight is bothering you that much, we shall take care of that problem first." She took a determined step toward Harry, who was no longer laughing.

He immediately took two steps back. "What do you mean by that?" Harry asked in a trembling voice. He grimaced, showing fear at this point was not a good idea.

"What I mean," Rowan spoke slowly as if to a simple child, "is I will fix your eyesight for you. No more glasses, ever again."

Harry raised his eyebrow skeptically. "That's impossible." He had researched the subject himself very thoroughly. He even went so far as to ask Hermione in complete confidentiality if she knew anything about it.

"Anything is possible," Rowan returned with a small knowing smile.

Harry tried to stare the girl down, but it is very hard to stare someone down when you don't know exactly where their eyes are.

"Will you allow it?" Rowan asked.

"I am completely at your mercy." Harry replied dropping his hands to his sides in defeat.

"Don't be so melodramatic. That is not what I asked. Do you give your consent?" Rowan's stare seemed to penetrate his skull, even though Harry could not see her clearly.

"Fine then," He answered in a petulant voice sticking out his lower lip.

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes!" Harry screamed getting frustrated with the girl. "I'm getting cold, and you're obviously not going to let me go until you've done what you want to do." He plopped on the ground and looked up at Rowan. "Just leave my body somewhere where it can be found. I don't want my friends wondering what happened to me." The last came out as bitter sarcasm.

Rowan huffed. "If I had wanted to kill you, you would be dead now." She said harshly, then her voice softened once more, "Harry you need to trust me." She put her hand on his shoulder and was surprised when he did not flinch. "You have lost faith in those who care for you. It is your belief that everyone around you only wants to use you, even your friends. I am here to show you that that is not true. There are those who only want what is best for you." Harry began to cry and Rowan dropped to her knees and put her arms around him. "You need to learn to trust again. There is so much compassion in you, if that compassion is lost all else will follow. Please Harry." She ended in a whisper her warm breath brushing against his ear.

Rowan's words stirred something in Harry he had thought long dead. "Alright," Harry rasped. His voice sounded defeated, even to his own ears.

Rowan nodded, she did not wait, with Harry's consent she began to sing. It was a wordless song that reverberated through Harry's skull. The intense vibration accumulated behind his eyes, creating a pressure that seemed to squeeze his brains out his ears. It then moved, or rather flowed, to the back of his head. Harry's vision wavered and nausea swept through him. When the vertigo stopped his vision was clear. Harry stared. It was as if he were seeing the world for the very first time. He watched a squirrel digging at the base of a tree some distance away.

"Oopps," Rowan exclaimed, though she didn't sound very contrite. Harry tore his gaze from the squirrel and turned toward her. She was looking at him with her bottom lip between her teeth. "I can fix that for you if you want."

"Fix what," Harry asked still gazing around in wonder. "What ever spell you used worked great."

"Of course it did," Rowan said with supreme confidence, "but it's a bit too much. You now have the preternatural sight of a vampire." She bit her lip again.

Harry looked at her askance then what Rowan had said sank in. "You mean you turned me into a vampire!" He shrieked at her, shaking with anger. Harry wasn't fluent on all the different types of vampires, but he was really sure he didn't want to be one. Changing to an all liquid diet was distinctly unappealing.

"No, no, no," Rowan said putting her hands on his shoulders so that he had to look at her. It was only a metaphor; it means that your eyesight is much keener than a human's, more like an animal's. Perhaps vampire was not a good analogy to use."

"Ya think," Harry rebutted looking at Rowan for the first time. She was dressed in brown leather pants and a loose green shirt. Rowan was rather pretty, he thought, if you could ignore the blazing eyes and stubborn tilt of the chin. The hilt of a massive sword rose over her shoulder, but she seemed more comfortable with the knives at her belt. She also had pointed ears, but being a non-human in the Forbidden Forest made more sense to Harry than being human. By that logic his current predicament made no sense.

"Do you want me to fix it?" She asked watching him wave his hand in front of his face, checking both eyesight and cognitive skills.

"No that's fine," Harry answered absently. Having confirmed that, yes, his vision was fixed, the other required more thorough research, he dropped his hand and turned to Rowan. "How?"

"I used song magic." Rowan said succinctly. At Harry's blank look she elaborated. "I use my voice, much as you would a wand to control my magic." Harry stood there with his mouth hanging open like a fool. "It's a rare gift, a fluke really, like a natural singing voice."

"So your not here to kill me?" Harry asked. Rowan gave him a look that would have killed him, if such a thing were possible. Powers above know Snape had been trying for years to prefect such a glare.

"No I'm not," Rowan huffed, then went on in a terse voice explaining, once again, her purpose. "For the last time, I am here to show you the truth." She reached back over her shoulder and pulled the sword out of its sheath. A zinging sound filled the air, and Harry jumped back Rowan gave him a look that said she doubted his mental capacity. She flipped the sword to where it was point down. Harry calmed down when he realized that there was no way she could wield the heavy, cumbersome weapon.

"How is a sword going to show me the truth?" Harry asked. "I mean, it is a weapon."

"This sword was not made to be a wea-"

"Looks like a weapon to me." He interrupted, eying the very large sword.

Rowan lost all patience and snapped at him, "It was made to show the truth, all truth, nothing more, nothing less. It will show you the truth about yourself, your friends, even your enemies. If you are brave enough all secrets will be revealed."

"Wow," Harry was nonplussed, "That's not something you want to leave sitting around." He mentally slapped himself. Of all the things he could have said, those were the words that actually had come out of his mouth.

Rowan laughed, "True, but only someone of my family can make it work." She dug the tip of the sword into the ground. "Are you ready?"

Harry licked his lips. He was very nervous. Part of him wanted to know what the sword would show him. The other wanted to turn around and run, not stopping until he reached Hogwarts that part of him didn't want to know the truth. But the other and much more forceful part of him itched to know. These two sides battled for supremacy within him. In the end curiosity killed caution and Harry nodded.

"Come then, put your hand on the hilt."

Harry hesitated once more but curiosity had already won. _Don't it always,_ Harry thought sardonically, remembering the pensive and Snape's memories as his hands wrapped around the hilt of the sword.

Later Harry would both curse and bless his curiosity. When he touched the sword a bright white light surrounded both Rowan and himself. _Surely they will see this back at Hogwarts,_ was Harry's last thought before the magic pulled him in and stripped him bare.

Harry cringed as a wave of petty lies and stupid mistakes he had locked away rolled over him. He relived all the lies he had consciously and unconsciously told over the years. Little things and not so little things were forcefully brought to his attention, the resentment of his relatives, the loneliness that he had been denying for years.

It was too much, seeing himself as he truly was, tears ran down his face. The truth cut Harry soul deep; the truth healed its own wounds. Acceptance rolled over him. This was who he was; he would not run from it, from himself. Acceptance brought an inner peace that more than made up for the pain.

Now was the time that the focus of the sword was supposed to shift, but it did not. Another life that Harry somehow knew he had lived before flashed in front of his eyes. It was a darker life than the one he now lived, the life of someone who had learned of hardships at a very young age. This was harder to accept. The sheer knowledge accumulated during this other life was overwhelming. Harry could not remember this life, and would prefer not to, but he knew that this was also him and embraced his darker self out of instinct.

Then the focus did shift to outside of him. First to Rowan, she was the closest to him physically. Harry saw her as the ancient guardian she was. A boundless knowledge buried in everyday perception and a skewed view of the world. What amazed Harry the most was that Rowan knew her own truth, knew herself inside and out, and had reached a point of peaceful serenity with her destiny. He stood in awe of her wisdom.

The focus of the sword shifted to Ron, then again, to Hermione. Images and knowledge came faster and faster. Harry learned secrets he was sure no one should know. Things people kept even from themselves, Hagrid, Malfoy, and even Voldemort. Harry couldn't keep up with the images any longer; the information came to fast for him to interpret.

Suddenly Harry cried out on pain. Sirius, his life, his dreams, his fears flashed through Harry's mind. Tears streamed down his face as he mourned once again the loss of the only family he had ever known. He cried even harder as he recognized his parents.

Many secrets were revealed to Harry: why his father had hated Snape so much, how his parents had gotten together. It was almost too much to bear, but he gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on the sword.

All of a sudden, people Harry had never met and places he had never been flashed through his mind. The people were dressed funny, even by wizarding standards. In fact, the pointed hats reminded Harry of a book he had scanned about the middle ages. A knight in full armor sitting on his horse confirmed the suspicion.

At one point the images became very clear. It was like watching a muggle movie. Four people sat around a campfire. Tents were pitched behind them. They, two men, two women, sat facing a large magnificent castle that could only be Hogwarts. _Why are they camping on the Hogwarts front lawn?_ Harry wondered.

One of the women, sat her tankard on the ground, she was the oldest of the group; her honey-brown was touched at the temples with grey. For some reason she looked familiar. "So," she said slapping her hands on her lap for attention, "What shall we call our masterpiece?" She made a sweeping gesture in the general direction of the school and almost fell over. The other woman giggled. All four of them were obviously a long way gone in drink.

Harry gasped; these people couldn't be who he thought they were. He watched the following silence of drunken contemplation with fascination. Hard as it was to believe, Harry had the distinct impression that he was one of the men.

While he tried to figure out who he was, a wild boar burst through the brush and into the campsite. Harry jumped back in surprise. The large blue eyed man jumped up from where he sat between the dark haired man and the young woman. "I say, get out of here you... you pig," He yelled as he lurched forward aggressively and promptly fell on his face.

"Eww!" shrieked the young woman. "That hog has warts!" She fell over in her excitement and spilled her wine down the front of her dress. In the following commotion the boar made good its escape. It ran right past Harry who watched dumbfounded. _Despite all the stories the Founding Four were very obviously human_. He thought_, Very, very human._

The man with the long, dark hair sat back lazily and sipped his drink. He seemed completely unfazed by the appearance of the boar. He also seemed to be the soberest of the group. Bright green eyes studied the blazing fire. Then, he giggled proving that he was just as drunk as the rest of them. "Hogwarts," the man mumbled into his drink, then he giggled again. He merely hid his drunkenness better than the other three.

"Is that a suggestion, Salazar," the matronly woman asked archly. _He doesn't look all that evil_. Harry thought. _In fact he almost looks like a girl_. Slytherin shrugged. "Well," she went on, "I'll second that, seeing as the rest of us have come up with exactly nothing. Rowena?"

Ravenclaw threw her blond braid over her shoulder. "I'll give it my vote, but I expect to be given credit for it." Slytherin smiled and gave Ravenclaw a half bow from where he sat.

"I'm in," said the man, who had to be Godric Gryffindor, from where he still lay in the dirt. He levered himself up and dusted off his pants. "To Hogwarts," Gryffindor announced grabbing his refilled goblet, courtesy of Helga Hufflepuff.

"To Hogwarts," the others chorused. A deep bell tone sounded from nowhere binding the name to the school, and so became Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The vision changed again. On and on it went through a life that seemed so familiar. He could not be Salazar Slytherin, could he? The sword flashed brightly once more, and everything went dark.


	2. Chapter II

Harry woke up to bright light and the smell of antiseptic. He felt, for some reason, that he should be disoriented, but he had woken up in the hospital wing so many times it was almost as normal as waking up in his own bed in Gryffindor Tower. He did not question the reality of the events that preceded his waking in the hospital wing. The fact that he could see clearly was testimony to the validity of last night's events.

Harry lay on his side and sifted through his memories, still not quite believing it. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, was the reincarnation of Salazar Slytherin. He laughed at the thought of everyone's reaction to that bit of news. With any luck, Malfoy would put in for a transfer.

Harry sighed; he now possessed all of Slytherin's memories. Knowledge beyond anything he could have imagined bounded around in his head trying to find a place to settle in. He arched his eyebrows; Harry would never have thought that Slytherin had been an insightful and rather poetic man. Then he remembered how Hogwarts got its name and reminded himself of his promise never to get drunk again.

All the stories said that Slytherin was a heartless man who only loved himself. It seemed that that was only half the truth. He also loved his friends and a select few of his "special" students. And he wasn't completely heartless only very impatient when it came to dealing with fools. Almost everyone was a fool.

"I don't know Albus." Harry was pulled from his musings by the voice of Madam Pomphry, the school mediwitch." He seems fine, physically at least. Though there is something wrong with his mind. He seems to have changed psychologically. When he woke for a moment some time ago he acted like someone two or even three times his age." Pomphry sounded worried, but Harry knew he was fine. As for the change, well, in a since, Salazar Slytherin had been reborn. The memories of a very old, very dead, dark wizard _would_ change the thinking patterns of a sixteen year old boy.

Harry decided not to call attention to the fact that he was awake. He wanted to see if they would say anything else interesting. He needed to know what they knew and what they suspected, so that he could decide what to tell the Headmaster later. So far, it seemed that they knew that something had happened but didn't know what. Harry frowned; he didn't know himself the extent of what happened.

"I will speak with him when he wakes, Poppy, Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, said to the frazzled mediwitch. The privacy curtain around one side of Harry's bead was pulled aside. Twinkling blue eyes looked down on Harry through half-moon glasses. "Oh, he is awake," Dumbledore said to no one in particular.

_You knew I was awake the whole time, you old coot. _Harry thought fondly at the old man. Dumbledore wrinkled his forehead. It took Harry a moment to realize what had happened. _Note to self: don't think _at_ anyone. _It seemed that Slytherin had a minor telepathic ability. Truthfully it only worked sporadically and at times of high emotion, mostly embarrassing him in the process. _Great. _

"Are you feeling alright, Harry?" The Headmaster asked concern evident in his voice. The old man pulled a chair up beside the bed.

"I feel different, Sir." Harry frowned that was not what he had meant to say. He had wanted to tell the Headmaster that he was fine, but some how couldn't seem to get the words out. Different summed up how he was feeling rather well though.

"Different?" Dumbledore pursed his lips and gave Harry a serious look over the top of his lenses. "How so?"

Harry turned away from the Headmaster's piercing gaze. He did not want to answer the question, and he couldn't make himself lie. It wasn't for lack of trying; Harry was panting and his face was turning red with the effort of trying to lie to Dumbledore. He decided instead on a nice evasive answer when he noticed Madam Pomphry's critical gaze on him. The mediwitch was poised, ready to pounce at the slightest sign of physical distress. "I- don't know exactly. Many things seem different."

"Can you give me an example?" Dumbledore probed leaning forward and looked directly into Harry's eyes.

Harry swallowed. He cast about for something, anything to say. His eyes fell on his glasses sitting on the bedside table. "Well, Sir, my eyesight is much better than it was," He replied.

"Really?" The Headmaster lifted his heavy white eyebrows. "Well, that would explain why you haven't once reached for your glasses." He smiled and leaned forward in a conspirative manner. "Is there anything else you think I should know?"

Harry looked the Headmaster strait in the eye, "No, Sir, there is nothing else that I think you should know." He didn't even flinch at so blatantly putting Dumbledore off. It was not like him at all, but he just wanted the old man to leave him alone so that he could figure out why he couldn't lie and what he was going to do with all the new information packed between his ears. _Must be Salazar surfacing in me. _He thought.

Dumbledore leaned back and gave Harry a somber look. "You know that you can talk to me, don't you, Harry?"

Harry decided not to dance around the fact that he was hiding something. "You've kept secrets from me." He replied. "I don't think I can trust you."

"Harry-"

"I don't respond well to betrayal." True enough, Salazar had a tendency to kill people who betrayed him.

"Harry, I did not betray you. I kept secrets that perhaps I shouldn't have, I admit. But trust me Harry; I'm trying to help you, to protect you." The Headmaster unknowingly echoed the words Rowan had spoken earlier.

"Give me time to think about it." Harry answered tears pricking his eyes. "I'll come talk to you later." He wanted Dumbledore to leave. He couldn't face this now.

Dumbledore nodded, "The pass word to my office is pepper imp, come when you are ready." He stood. "Well it seems it is time for me to leave. Poppy will most likely throw me out if I keep her from her patient any longer." Both Dumbledore and Harry glanced over at Madam Pomphry, who stood with arms crossed glaring at the Headmaster.

"Don't worry Headmaster; I'll come see you when I'm ready. I just need to work out a few things first." Harry said. His faith in Dumbledore, while not fully restored, was more than it had been. Harry knew that the Headmaster had only been protecting him, but he had shouldered the burden of Voldemort the day the old snake had used Harry's blood to restore himself. Truly, there had been nothing to protect him from, and Dumbledore's well meaning protection had ended up costing him his godfather.

Dumbledore nodded, "I will see you later then." He gave Harry a small smile and strode out the infirmary door, Pomphry's glare following him the whole way.

As soon as the door shut the mediwitch descended on Harry with a swooshing sound. Harry startled at her sudden proximity. She checked his pulse and looked into his eyes muttering the whole time. "Humph. Not letting me tend to my own patients. Who does he think he is?" Pomphry handed him a goblet that appeared in her hand. Harry honestly couldn't tell if she had picked it up off the table of conjured it out of thin air. "Drink this."

Harry frowned at the suspicious substance. It was silvery black and gooey, quite frankly it looked dangerous. A muggle would have compared it to motor oil. The worst part was that even with Salazar Slytherin's knowledge of potions he had no idea what it could be. _Must be a newer potion._ He sniffed the contents of the goblet and wrinkled his nose. _Not promising. _

"Oh, for the love of- it's not going to kill you!" The mediwitch was very annoyed. Harry shot her a skeptical look. The return glare could have rivaled Snape at his best; Harry drank.

Whatever the potion was it tasted horrible. Harry couldn't decide if it tasted more like battery acid or putrid swamp water. The goblet dropped from his numb fingers. He almost threw it back up but manfully swallowed the potion along with his revulsion. His body contorted as the liquid hit the back of his throat and burned all the way down to his stomach. Harry groaned, and then shuddered as an icy chill swept through his blood stream.

"Wha-wh-what was that?" He managed to gasp out.

"It was a restorative. You have been unconscious for quite some time, and your magical reservoir is low."

"You told the Headmaster that I was fine."

"You are," Pomphry stated without remorse. "You're also a bit weak. The potion will fix that."

"Oh." Harry was nonplussed. _Well, well, well_, he thought, _they certainly didn't have anything like this in Salazar's time. I should look into this._ He almost laughed out loud at the thought of Snape's face when he found out about his new hobby. "May I go now?"

"No, I want you to stay here for a day or two." Pomphry walked off, goblet in hand, not once looking back.

Harry sat for a time on his bed, the white, starched sheets pushed down to the end, looking out the window at the sun gleaming off the lake. The sky had a soft, clear look to it. It was a beautiful day, and Harry was stuck in the hospital wing. He grimaced. The potion had done it's job nothing was wrong with him. Except for the fact that he was in Gryffindor, of course. He could hear Godric laughing. Harry was positive he had taken leave of his senses when he asked to be put in Gryffindor.

Harry sighed and went back to staring out the window. Suddenly he felt trapped. Madam Pomphry had told him to stay put until she told him he could go. This sparked an uncharacteristic feeling in the young Gryffindor, but a very characteristic feeling for Slytherin. Apart of him was screaming for freedom. He would not tolerate being confined, no matter how well meaning the mediwitch was. Harry banged his fist on the bed side table smashing his glasses. He could not stay here.

So, he left. When the mediwitch was checking her potions supplies, marking them off on a long list, Harry slipped out of his bead to the floor and crawled under the privacy curtain lest its movement catch Pomphry's attention. He padded across the hospital wing on cat's paws and out the door. Once out in the hall, Harry instinctively hid behind a suit of armor.

Just as he got himself out of view a Ravenclaw stumbled around the corner. He was being supported by his friend, but he still lurched drunkenly down the corridor. The front of the boy's robes was smeared in blood, and he would have two fabulous black eyes to go with the broken nose within the next half hour.

Harry almost ran out to help the two Ravenclaws, but then remembered that he himself was supposed to be in the hospital wing on forced bed rest. On one level he felt sorry for the boy, but a part of him whispered for him to put his own interest first.

Harry stopped to think about that. Normally he would help no matter the personal cost. He had definitely gotten more than memories and knowledge of Slytherin from that damn sword. This must be a part of the psychological differences Pomphry had mentioned.

Harry sighed. He assuaged his guilt by telling himself that he would help if he wouldn't get in trouble for it, but he didn't know the boy, and he certainly would get in trouble if he were caught. Even worse he would most likely be constantly watched because of his transgression. He neither know nor cared how the boy was hurt, and no one would even know that The Boy Who Lived had let down his obligation to the innocent.

The boy and his friend passed through the door to the hospital wing, while Harry waged his inner battle against his conscience. _When in doubt argue with yourself until the decision is made for you._ Though Harry still felt guilty for not helping.

The up side to the whole moral dilemma was that Madam Pomphry would be kept busy. It would be that much longer before she realized that he was gone.

He slid out from behind the suit of armor. Yes, the Ravenclaw's injury would make it possible for Harry to be far away from the hospital wing by the time his absence was noted. In fact it was a happy ending all around. The Ravenclaw got help, and he got out. Harry silently blessed Fortune, who was smiling down on him, and the boy, who unknowingly provided the perfect diversion.

Harry sauntered down the corridor humming an ancient lullaby that the Salazar side of him told him he loved. The Slytherin that the sorting hat had seen in him six years ago was finally free.


	3. Chapter III

"Golden pride," Harry sighed at the portrait of the fat lady. She swung aside to reveal the entrance to the Gryffindor Tower.

The well lit common room was crowded with students of all years releasing the pent up energy accumulated from spending the day sitting in class. A group of first years talked excitedly about their classes while keeping an eye on their seniors, hoping to catch a glimpse of one casting a spell. Some fourth years were planning a prank in the corner just to Harry's right, and the sixth and seventh years claimed the sofas and chairs closest to the fire; they were arguing loudly over a game of exploding snap.

Everything stopped as Harry scrambled through the entrance. Everyone had turned to stare at him. He stared back at his house mates, vainly wishing that they would return to what they had been doing before he entered the room. As far as Harry knew, the only other person that could walk through the portrait and be received by absolute silence was Professor McGonagall. He found that fact quite disconcerting.

He was so caught up in his musings he had just enough time to register a black and brown streak at the corner of his eye before something collided with his side and latched itself there. The impact made him stumble, and he barely caught himself before he fell over completely. He righted himself and looked down at a face-full of bushy, brown hair. Hermione Granger had attached herself to his side and buried her face in his neck.

"Oh, Harry, I've been so worried about you," she gushed. "Dumbledore wouldn't tell us a thing that Madam Pomphry would see to your care. Then, we went to the hospital wing to ask if we could visit you," Hermione's voice rose an octave, and Harry could feel the tears on his neck, "And she said no. Oh Merlin Harry, it's been three days." She broke down completely and Harry awkwardly wrapped his arm around her, trying to comfort her.

A cold chill ran down his spine. _Three days. Three days!_ Harry looked up at Ron who stood a couple feet away looking very awkward and out of place. "Three days" He asked. Ron nodded.

Harry didn't want to believe it, yet he knew it to be true. His friends wouldn't lie to him about something like this; they had no reason to. He looked around at the common room at the curious and expectant faces of those students that had gathered around the trio to watch the show. Harry was revolted. Colin even had his camera out as if waiting for Harry to do a trick. Harry glared at Colin until he put the camera away, shame faced. "Let's go somewhere where we can talk." He said, the stern glare never leaving his face.

Ron nodded again and without a word started up the steps to their dorm. Harry and Hermione, who refused to either let go or remove her head from his shoulder, lurched after him. Ron opened the door to the sixth year boy's dorm and ushered his two friends inside.

"Oy, Harry," all three of them jumped at the sound of Neville's voice. He sat stretched out on his bed with one finger marking his place in a book. "It's good to see that you're finally out of the hospital wing," he said with a friendly smile on his round face.

Harry was momentarily surprised to realize that Neville actually meant what he said. The boy really was happy to see Harry again. Harry smiled back at the gentle boy. "Thanks Nev, it's good to see you again too. Could you give us a moment to talk?" Harry asked waving his hand between Ron Hermione and himself.

"Sure thing Harry," Neville said bouncing off the bed. Neville started out the door then abruptly stopped "Oh," he said turning back to face Harry. "I have to tell you, since you missed the announcement and all..."

"What is it Nev," Harry asked a bit more sharply than he meant to. He was getting fairly impatient with the Gryffindor's ramblings. There was a lot explaining to do, and he wasn't going to get it done with witnesses hanging around.

Neville seemed to sense the impatience in Harry's voice because he looked down at his feet and mumbled, "I just thought I'd tell you about the Halloween Ball we're having this year."

Harry's interest perked up immediately. "A ball, eh," There seemed to be an unholy gleam in his eyes as the words practically purred off his tongue, "Looks like I get to show off my dancing skills." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he realized that he had made a mistake; he wasn't supposed to be able to dance at all.

Ron shook his head, disbelief written all over his face. "Yeah, just like in fourth year." He smiled at Harry, "Who's going to lead you this time?" Ron then burst into laughter. After a moment the others joined in.

Harry laughed too, trying to cover his mistake. He was not really ready to tell his friends all of his secrets yet particularly about Slytherin. He tried to quip that he would find someone to show him how to dance beautifully, but the words stuck in his throat. _This is odd. _"I'll surprise you," he managed to say. "Thanks for the heads up, Nev."

"No problem, see you guys at dinner." Neville turned and left the room with an inexplicable bounce in his step.

As soon as the door shut Harry took out his wand and cast several locking and silencing charms on it. He tried to tell himself that it was caution not paranoia that made him do this, but he knew that the truth of the matter was that he did not want anything said here to leave here, ever if at all possible.

Harry collapsed on his bed near the windows and looked over at his two dearest friends. They were standing close together in the middle of the room shock written all over their faces. "Harry," Hermione's voice was soft and controlled, like she was talking to a cornered animal, making Harry all the more nervous as he realized that he had made yet another mistake. "How do you know such advanced locking charms?"

Harry bit the inside of his cheek. How was he going to explain this one? He didn't want to keep secrets from his friends, but he could not tell them the truth, not yet. Deep down Harry knew that his fears were irrational. Ron and Hermione would never abandon him; they had been through too much together. If they knew that Harry was at least in part Salazar Slytherin, they would still be his friends, right?

"You know that I've been spending more time in the library lately, looking up spells and hexes." The truth and yet not the truth that was sought, Harry was beginning to suspect that he couldn't lie at all. He carefully controlled his expression, making it seem like his explanation was so obvious that Hermione should have thought of it herself.

Hermione stared at him for a full minute before nodding her head at his explanation. "Good for you Harry." Her voice took on a prim, self-satisfied tone as if his newly acquired study habits had come from years of her lecturing him, and perhaps they had. "It's about time that you started studying on your own. What with You-Know-"Harry frowned at her use of the euphemism, "V-voldemort," She corrected quickly, "Out there I would have thought that you would have started studying sooner." She paused. "Then there are the NEWTS to think about next year."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Hermione, he doesn't need to study, that's what you are here for."

Hermione whipped her head around a baleful look in her eye. Thus began one of their famous arguments. Harry sat up on the bed and rested his arms on crossed legs. He smiled as he followed the inane argument, eyes bouncing back and forth as if watching a fast passed tennis match. Harry couldn't help but notice that his friends had become more colorful in their use of language over the years.

When he decided that their bickering had gone on for long enough, meaning they had forgotten about the spells that had originally prompted the conversation, he cleared his throat. Both pairs of brown eyes snapped to where he was sitting on the bed. Harry idly wondered when they where going to stop denying their attraction for each other and just snog. _They would make the perfect couple_, he thought.

"So," he said when he had their undivided attention. "Three days?" They looked at him like he was stupid. "My stay in the hospital wing," he explained.

Ron blinked. "You didn't know?" His voice rose to an indignant shout, "They didn't tell you!"

"Calm down Ron. I'm sure there is a good reason Harry wasn't told." Hermione said though she looked doubtful.

Harry thought she had a good point; Madam Pomphry had said that he had been unconscious for a long time. "You may be right," he said trying to alleviate his friend's fears. "I am supposed to still be in the hospital wing, after all."

Ron and Hermione stopped on the brink of another argument and starred at Harry. "What?" they chorused.

"You heard me," Harry stated ungraciously, fully aware that his attempt to smooth things over had failed miserably.

"You snuck out of the hospital wing." Ron said; it was not a question.

"That's what I said," Harry stated. He then raised his hand to forestall their protest. "Now, before you both tear into me; understand that Madam Pomphry said herself that nothing was really wrong with me. She just wanted me to hang around for observational purposes."

Hermione plopped down next to him on the mattress. "Why couldn't you have waited until you were told that you could leave? Madam Pomphry will be mad at you." She pinned Harry with one of her you-did-wrong stares.

"I know," Harry scratched his head, and then told himself to stop it. The Slytherin in him would be damned if he retained any ape like habits. He suspected that with his messy black hair there was more than a little resemblance. _Note to self: grow out hair._ He knew from Salazar's experience that weight and gravity went a long way in taming hair. "I just couldn't stay there." He looked pleadingly at his friends, hoping that they would understand. "I've spent as much time in the hospital wing as I have in any other part of the school. It's starting to feel like a prison that I cannot escape."

They only looked at him blankly. "If you say so." Ron said with a shrug. "I know I wouldn't want to stay in the hospital wing, but I thought that you were going to move in this year."

Harry grabbed a pillow and threw it at Ron, "Prat," he growled affectionately. He broke out in a grin eyes twinkling. "So," he drawled, "When are you two going to start dating?" Harry was hit simultaneously with two pillows. "Hey! No fair!" He exclaimed. "I was unarmed."

The pillow fight that followed lasted for quite some time. Harry threw one of the pillows that hit him at Hermione. He then went after Ron, swinging the other pillow he held wildly. Ron ran and jumped on one of the five beds. He hit the bed and slid, with the sheets and comforter, off the other side. Harry dived after Ron with Hermione right behind him.

The room dissolved into pure chaos. Not one bed was left with pillows, covers or sheets. At one point a seam gave out on a pillow and snow white feathers fluttered around the warring friends.

Afterward, three exhausted teens sprawled amid rumpled beds and thrashed pillows. Harry sat laughing and panting. He was tired, but at least Ron and Hermione seemed to have forgotten all about their earlier conversation.

As Harry lay on the floor, with his head resting on the foot of Dean's bed, looking at his two best friends, he figured that they had monopolized the room long enough. He raised his hand and flicked his fingers at the door. Seamus and Dean, who had been futilely pounding on the door for the last ten minutes, fell into the room.

"What the hell happened?" Seamus yelled gesturing at the room as he pushed himself off of Dean.

"Sorry guys, got carried away," Ron replied looking helplessly at the mess. A stray feather stuck comically in his hair.

Harry merely shrugged and, with a wave of his hand, the room morphed back to its original state.

Absolute silence descended.

"Harry," Hermione gulped, "That was wandless magic."

Harry grinned at her. "You noticed." His reply was unconcerned as if he had been doing wandless magic for years, which technically he had. "I told you that I had been studying." Harry's gaze panned the room. "I did a good job of it if I do say so myself."

Ron, Seamus, and Dean only stared at him. Hermione on the other hand went into lecture mode, hands on hips and eyes flashing. "Harry James Potter, how could you?" Harry blinked. "You disappear in the middle of the night and end up in the hospital wing, scaring both Ron and I out of our wits. Then you sneak out of the hospital wing, perform very advanced magic, and pretend that nothing is wrong." Hermione continued, marching up to Harry and grabbing him by the front of his robes. "Suddenly you can do wandless magic, and brag about it like a filthy Slytherin." Her voice rose to a shriek, "What is wrong with you? Why wont you tell us what happened?"

Ron, whose head had been bobbing all through Hermione's tirade, decided that it was time to pry the irate girl off his best friend. He got slapped for his efforts. Ron massaged his red cheek and gave Harry a look that said: "I tried mate."

"Look 'Mione," Harry said in a gentle, placating voice. He tried to loosen her grip, with no success. She didn't look it, but Hermione was very strong. _Must be all those books she_ _lugs around_, He thought. "I know your upset-"

"Well good, nice to see you've finally picked up on the obvious," Hermione spat tightening her grip; her knuckles were turning white.

Harry put his hands on Hermione's, where they were latched to his robe, and looked her in the eye. "I have- changed, and I want to tell you. I don't want to keep secrets from either you or Ron. I just can't tell you now. Later, okay. Please 'Mione, believe me. I will tell you; I promise. Just not right now." He licked his lips knowing that he would regret what he was about to say. "Tonight, I'll tell you tonight."

Hermione stared at him, judging the validity of his words. Slowly she let go of Harry's robe and nodded her head. "Tonight," she repeated. Harry reluctantly nodded back. He was committed. His friends would know the truth tonight, way too soon in Harry's opinion. He reached out and pushed a stray strand of curly brown hair behind Hermione's ear. It was surprising to him how much his friends meant to him.

Ron cleared his throat. Every one turned to him, even the forgotten Dean and Seamus. He never took his eyes off Harry. "It's time for dinner."

Everyone laughed nervously. "Trust you to remember when it's time to eat," Harry chirped, trying to lift the mood.

Hermione sniffed, "As if he could ever fill that bottomless pit he calls a stomach." She smoothed her robe. "Let's go then. Merlin forbid you miss a meal," she said to Ron. They all laughed and tramped down to dinner, though Harry noticed Ron giving him a warning look before walking through the door.

Outside the common room Harry stopped Ron. "What is wrong with you?" He asked even though he already knew the answer.

"What do you do mean?" Ron blustered.

"The way you looked at me when I touched Hermione." Ron's face turned red. Before he could say anything stupid Harry continued, "You have no reason to be jealous. Hermione is like a sister to me."

Ron gave Harry a shamed faced look. He shuffled his feet. "I know that-"Ron threw up his hands in exasperation.

"Ask her out," Harry was very careful to annunciate his words with exaggerated lip movements.

"Uh,"

"Do it."

"Harry I-"

"Tonight." Harry commanded crossing his arms. Ron stood, mouth hanging open. This was not like Harry. Harry didn't issue commands and expect them to be followed.

Harry knew what Ron was thinking. He had to stop acting like Salazar. His friends had noticed, even Ron, as dense as he was. Harry bit his lip. _I have to start acting like a young boy. _But how was he supposed to do that; even his thoughts were more articulate than they were before.

The two boys continued on to dinner each lost in his own thoughts.


	4. Chapter IV

Clouds rolled across the ceiling of the Great Hall. Every so often a flash of lightning lit up the rafters. Below the violent magical storm that mirrored the one outside, Hogwarts teachers and students ate their meals, largely oblivious to the storm raging above their heads. Well lit tables loaded down with food held most of their attention. Baked ham and mashed potatoes were far more interesting than a mere thunderstorm.

Draco Malfoy sat near the head of the Slytherin table holding court per usual. He smiled across the table at his "girlfriend," Pansy, and took a drink of his pumpkin juice, wishing it was something much stronger. He smiled and nodded absentmindedly at Pansy's chatter.

Draco's mind began to wander as she prattled on about her costume for the Halloween Ball. He was thankful that the sight of Crabbe and Goyle eating on either side of him kept his eyes from following his mind, but he still found himself staring at the far wall more often than at Pansy.

Draco found himself weighing torture and eventual death at his father's hands against being married to the gossipmonger sitting across from him. He sighed; it was three weeks until the ball and the daft girl had already picked out her costume _and_ his. Draco didn't really care what Pansy wanted, there was no damn way he was going to parade around as a knight with a "princess" dangling from his arm.

Blaise, who sat on Pansy's right, noticed that Draco's eyes had glazed over. "What's wrong," he asked. "You're not yourself tonight."

Draco flicked his eyes meaningfully at Pansy before answering. "Nothing really, I'm just tired."

Blaise understood. "Well, I for one am tired of hearing about that silly Halloween Ball." He said to change the topic.

"It is not silly," Pansy whined.

"But of course it is, Pansy dear," Blaise stated in a superior tone, "But there could be a way to fix that." His eyes flashed.

Draco raised one delicate, golden eyebrow. _Now this could be interesting._ "Oh and what do you have in mind?" He asked aloud.

Blaise shrugged, "Just a little get together," he replied blandly leaning back in his chair, a smug smile on his face. "Instead of going to the kiddies' ball we could have a more Slytherin party of our own."

_Oh yes, very interesting._ Draco rested his chin on a well manicured hand and pretended to consider the idea. In reality he wanted to jump on the table and dance, but he did have an image to maintain. "It has merit."

"Has merit?" Blaise scoffed, loosing his cool attitude. "It's a damn good idea and you know it."

"All right, all right," Draco put up his hands in defeat, and then grinned. "I'll give credit where credit is due, but it will be your job to convince the rest of the house."

"Would you ever doubt me, love?"

"Stop that!" Draco snapped. "I am not your love, dear, or anything else!"

Pansy opened her mouth to join the argument when loud cheers erupted from the Gryffindor table. The group of Slytherin's looked over to see Harry Potter, in all his glory, being welcomed back from the hospital wing, again.

Pansy snorted, "Is it too much to ask that he not come back."

"Evidently it is," Blaise quipped.

"If only the whole school wouldn't act like it's Christmas every time he does come back." Draco looked down at his half full plate. Suddenly, he wasn't very hungry.

"Potter's not wearing his glasses." Blaise noted. He looks kinda cute without them. Those big green eyes seem brighter."

Pansy dropped her fork. "Zabini that's just sick, mooning over a Gryffindor, and Potter at that."

"Look doll," Blaise drawled, "I'm not saying I'm in love with him. I just wonder how he is between the sheets."

Draco choked on his pumpkin juice. Crabbe stopped eating long enough to pound him on the back. He glanced across the room at Potter and shuddered. "Don't be crude." He snapped.

"No need to be jealous Draco-baby." Blaise leaned across the table and took one of Draco's hands in his own. His thumb moved in slow circles over the hand. "I'm not giving up on you. You'll always be special to me."

Draco felt his face heat up and snatched his hand back. "I am not gay!" He screeched. Of course, that was the exact moment that there was a lull in conversation in the hall. Everyone heard his shout; Draco's blush deepened to a tomato red.

"Sure, I believe you," Blaise purred with a wicked smile.

Draco looked away trying to avoid Blaise's eyes. At that moment a graceful movement at the Gryffindor table caught his attention. He couldn't believe it. Harry I'm Fucking Invincible Potter sat arms over his head in the middle of a feline stretch. Draco choked yet again as Potter's back arched, and the stretch rippled up through his arms. The incredibly sensual movement ended with Potter flexing his fingers like claws. _The Gryffindork is actually playing to the crowd. _Draco glanced around the room to see most of the girls and a number of the boys staring at Potter. _This is sick. _Draco was definitely not going to finish eating now.

Blaise turned to him after drooling over Potter with a slightly glazed look in his eye. "Well now, that was something else. Did you enjoy it, Draco?" He said. A grin split his face in two. He knew that Draco had been watching, just as raptly as he had been.

"Of course not." Draco whined in exasperation. He was thoroughly sick of Blaise's blatant innuendoes.

"Sure, I believe you, Honey." Blaise drawled as he glanced suggestively at Potter then at Draco.

"He certainly did not," Pansy piped up petulantly. "He loves me." She jabbed her finger at her chest for emphasis.

Blaise gave Draco a significant look over his goblet.

"Shut up." Draco snapped.

qqqqqq

Harry sat at the Gryffindor table facing Ron and the rest of the hall. Hermione sat down next to Ron and promptly buried her nose in a book. As they filled their plates, Harry scanned the Slytherin table with new eyes. He had always thought of the Slytherins as an unpleasant lot of bullies, evil witches and wizards of the future, but with Salazar's understanding he knew exactly what was wrong with his (yes he thought of it as his) wayward house.

Slytherin had never been an open and fun loving house like the others. In Salazar's day many of the students in Slytherin had been those who were simply not accepted anywhere else, and the entire lot tended to be very antisocial and vindictive. Voldemort's campaign for power and dominance had stirred the usual distrust and animosity of the house to a fever pitch. As a result Slytherin became more introverted and hostile toward the other houses making it completely dependent on itself and ultimately Voldemort for direction and guidance. _Yet another reason to kill the bastard who dares call himself my heir. _

Slytherin House had always been unstable. Its members had the ambition and sly cunning expected of them, but they were also outcast and the abused, those most likely to become dark lords and ladies if not handled correctly. In the beginning Salazar had taught them how to become independent and productive members of the wizarding world. Though he must admit that he did teach the dark arts to a few select students; those with a healthy sense of responsibility at any rate.

Harry sighed and looked over at the teacher's table at Professor Snape, Head of Slytherin. The professor looked up, and their eyes met. Harry, ever so slightly, nodded his head in respect. Merlin knows the man was doing all that he could. All he received in return was a puzzled frown. _He tries to help them. I know he does. Snape has a heavy burden on his shoulders: trying to lead his students away from Voldemort without revealing himself as a spy for the Order,_ Harry thought. _Harry put his head in his hands. I have a lot to fix. Damn Voldemort to Hell_!

"What's wrong mate?" Harry looked up into Ron's worried eyes.

"Nothing- it's just- I have a lot to explain later." His hands dropped into his lap. "I'm going to need your help."

"I'm there for ya, so's 'Mione." Ron glanced at the bushy haired girl, "Right?"

"Right," Hermione said with a decisive nod.

Harry smiled. "What would I do without you two?"

"Well, let's see," Ron held up his hand and ticked off: fail all your classes, because 'Mione wouldn't be there to tell you to do your homework; die of boredom, because it's my job to make sure you don't; not be able to solve all the mysteries you're so intent on stumbling across, 'Mione again; and you just might win a game of chess."

Harry had started laughing halfway through Ron's speech. "Okay, okay," he gasped. "I need you; I couldn't survive without you." He struck a dramatic pose, with his hand over his heart, then immediately dropped it. "But the chess thing may be something to look into," he said grinning slyly at Ron.

"Oh, really?" Ron asked in a skeptical tone.

"Yes really."

"Really, really?"

"Really, really."

"Really-"

Hermione slammed the book she had been reading on the table. "The both of you sound ridiculous. Really-"her eyes almost popped out of her head, and she slapped a hand across her mouth.

"Really Hermione?" Harry asked in an innocent tone. All three of them burst into laughter before returning to their meals.

"I am not gay!" At Draco's shout Ron's laughter changed. It sounded mysteriously like a cross between a choking noise and a pained whine.

Harry sat dumbfounded for all of a second; then got a wicked idea. "Not gay, huh. Let's test that theory." He winked at his friends and began to stretch. Harry knew that he was too skinny to pull it off well, but a nice sinuous stretch always, _always,_ trapped people's attention. Halfway through the stretch Harry snagged a glance at the Slytherin table. Draco, he noted looked ever so slightly disgusted under his calm exterior and he wasn't staring at Harry like almost everyone else. Harry finished his little display and calmly went back to his meal. "I'll be damned; he's telling the truth," he informed his friends.

Ron and Hermione stared at him. "Harry, why did you do that?" Hermione stuttered.

"To see weather or not Malfoy is really gay."

"Well didn't you notice everyone staring at you?"

"Yes 'Mione, I did. Pretty good turn out, wouldn't ya say. Could you please pass the potatoes?"

qqqqqq

Albus Dumbledore surveyed the dinning hall from his advantage at the teacher's table. He loved to see the children enjoy a meal together: the Gryffindors celebrating the return of Harry Potter, boisterous and fun loving, Ravenclaws discussing incomprehensible details of obscure magics their table spotted with a stray book or five perhaps even ten, Huffelpuffs gossiping about the upcoming Halloween Ball, Slytherins most likely plotting a party of their own. Dumbledore smiled fondly at his most secretive students. It always amused him when the Slytherins pretended to be smarter than him.

"Isn't Harry still supposed to be in the hospital wing?"

Dumbledore turned from his inner musings to face the disapproving witch seated next to him. "Now Minerva, I'm sure he's fine. Most likely, he did not want to spend the day in the hospital wing. You can't blame him, as much time as he spends there, for wanting to see the rest of the school every once in a while."

Minerva McGonagall pushed her square glasses up her nose. "You don't seem to be surprised to see him here Albus."

"Oh, Poppy barged into my office quite some time ago to tell me of Harry's escape." The Headmaster replied nonchalantly.

"Escape?"

"Yes, while her back was turned." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled mischievously.

"Well what are you going to do about it," the witch asked sternly.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" The Deputy Headmistress gripped her napkin at the thought of a wrong going unpunished.

"Nothing," Dumbledore repeated more firmly.

"So no punishment, again, for Mr. Potter," came a harsh voice from McGonagall's right. The owner of the voice leaned forward to glare at the Headmaster, lank, greasy hair falling in his face.

Albus was not intimidated; blue eyes twinkled at his coworker. "Severus, give Harry a brake. Besides, I remember a time not so long ago, when you snuck out of the hospital wing." He paused as if remembering something, "Last week in fact."

Severus leaned back in his chair and glowered at his plate. He raised his heat to give a sweeping glare to the students and met Potter's eyes. The boy stared at him for a moment, and then inclined his head. _What was that about?_ Severus thought. _He's planning something; I know it._

Are you all right Severus? You look a bit pale." McGonagall asked patting his hand in a motherly way. Severus hated it.

Severus pulled his hand away from her. "I don't need to be mothered Minerva, and I'm always this pale if you haven't noticed" Came the caustic reply.

"Sorry Severus, it's just an expression, but you did look shocked just then."

Their quiet conversation was in interrupted at that point by Draco's declaration. "Merlin, first Potter nods at me and now this."

"Oh Severus, you know as well as I do that it's only Blaise ribbing him again. As for Harry, he probably just nodded as you looked up." The witch returned to her meal, but the voice of the Potions Professor interrupted her.

"He looked right at me Minerva; he's planning something."

"Nonsense, Harry is a good boy."

"Of course he is," Severus's voice dripped sarcasm. "But I happen to know that the boy is more Slytherin than Gryffindor."

"And how do you figure that, Severus?" Dumbledore asked his blue eyes trained on the professor.

Severus cocked an eyebrow; the Headmaster had just confirmed his suspicions. "Potter's actions speak for themselves." He said nodding at the boy who was blithely eating his meal after his performance.

Dumbledore had thought as much himself. He sighed and picked up his goblet. There was no need to worry, yet. Harry had said that he would come to the him when he was ready. Dumbledore pushed the troubled thoughts away and went back to his dinner.


	5. Serious Discussions

**A/N: **This story will not be slash. The relationship that Harry and Draco concoct is only a cover for what they are really doing. The story is not supposed to be a romance at all; it is a power play story. I'm pushing it with the Ron/Hermione relationship. Draco will change very little from the cannon and he does not like Harry. A certain respect will form but in no way is it as love of any kind. For those who want to know: Salazar is bi and not looking for any kind of relationship.

As for Rowan she was only the catalyst for the story. She is not related to Harry or Salazar and will most likely not appear again. She was given orders from the Higher up to do what she did because it is _her_ family that makes the sword work.

I am also going to start a Salazar Slytherin Godric Gryffindor hodgepodge of shorts called "The Drinking Chronicles" so anyone that liked the naming of the school is recommended to check it out when it goes up.

One more thing, I know now where this story is going: the complete and absolute vodkaâ€ _destruction_ of Voldemort. So enjoy!

Serious Discussions

Harry and his friends made their way silently up to the Gryffindor common room after diner. Once there they set up residence in front of the fire place. Ron sat on the couch with Hermione next to him. Harry sat across from them on one of the plush chairs. Hermione pulled out the book she had had at dinner and began reading. Harry and Ron stared at her for a moment then shrugged at each other. Ron set up his old battered chess set and on the table between them, and they started to play.

Two hours later Ron sat back and scratched his head. Something was wrong with the game. He glanced up at Harry, who was surveying the still crowded room. Ron sighed and went back to studying the board; he made his move. "Your turn." Harry came out of his trance, glanced fleetingly at the board, and moved. Ron snorted wishing Harry would pay more attention to the game. He studied the board once more. His jaw dropped as he came to the realization that Harry was winning that was what was wrong with the game. Harry was winning, al bet not by much, but Harry could hardly hold his own in a chess match. Ron sat up straighter. It was time to pay more attention to the game. His eyes lit up. _A challenge_.

A few hours later Hermione looked up from her book. The common room was finally empty. She watched the boys bent close over the chess board eyes gleaming. Hermione waited patiently for them to realize that the room was empty and that it was time to talk.

Hermione was willing to admit that she had been hard on Harry since his return from the hospital wing, but she really worried about him. After Sirius' death he had withdrawn from all human contact. Seeing the wasted figure Harry had become on the train at the start of term had frightened her. Hermione's worst fear was that Harry would commit suicide if left alone. She promised herself she would be there to stop him if he tried.

Hermione watched the boys for upwards of ten minutes chewing on her bottom lip. The only notable occurrence was Ron placing his hand on a knight muttering to himself. Hermione couldn't take it anymore; she picked up her book and chunked it at the board. The innocent chess pieces flew in all directions with little screams of shock and surprise.

"Hermione!" Ron yelled, "Why did you do that? Harry and I were in the middle of an intense game."

"And since when is any game of chess with Harry intense?" Hermione crossed her arms and watched as Ron opened and shut his mouth. She turned to Harry. "You have some explaining to do. If I didn't know better I would say that you were a different person."

Harry licked his suddenly dry lips. He knew, had known, that the common room was empty and had been for some time. The only came from the fire crackling cheerfully blissfully unaware of the tension in the room. Both Ron and Hermione sat across the table from him waiting expectantly for his answer.

Harry nervously scanned the room, looking for hidden intruders. Finding none, he took out his wand and cast a privacy ward around the room that would keep out unwanted visitors, and prevent physical and magical eaves dropping. "None of what I say here leaves here."

Ron and Hermione looked at each other. This did not sound like their Harry at all. Their friend had been moody and withdrawn, but this was a whole different person, a dangerous person. Hermione had been reading up on depression, but hadn't come across anything like this. Harry's gaze held suspicion, something she would have once thought impossible.

Ron sat back with a frown and crossed his arms in front of him. His right hand plucked at the cuff of his robe, a habit he just couldn't break. "We won't say anything; you know you can trust us." Ron said leaning forward with an earnest expression on his face. "We're your best friends."

Harry's eyes softened at Ron's words. He bit his lower lip to keep it from trembling. He really wanted to trust them. Ron and Hermione had stuck by him through everything, butâ€. Harry also knew that what Ron had said was true. He took a deep breath. "I know. It's only that since Sirius' death I've been pretty messed up, and then this happened."

"What happened Harry?" Hermione asked a worried frown on her face.

"Wellâ€ ya see" Harry launched into his explanation of the events of the night in question, trying hard not to rush through it, or even worse, stutter to a halt. He told them about Rowan and how she had 'fixed' his eyes, leaving out the fact that he could now see much better than any human. The sword and what exactly it did to him were harder to get out but he did manage. He wouldn't tell his friends the secrets he had learned about anyone else, but he did expand, in detail, on Ron and Hermione's escapades.

Harry told them of the time Ron had stolen his brother's wand as a child and the resulting catastrophe that became of the kitchen. He even pointed out that it had been an excellent idea to tell Mr. and Mrs. Weasely that the garden gnomes had snuck into the house. Ron blushed and told Harry not to let that get around. His parents still thought it was the gnomes.

The three of them laughed, Ron and Hermione a bit nervously as Harry went on to describe Natalie's, Hermione's cousin, spectacular not to mention original new hair cut. "'Mione Ron turned to look at the flustered girl, "Why did you cut your cousin's hair off?"

Hermione glared at Harry, who only smiled. I'm not telling." She brushed imaginary lint off her skirt ignoring Ron all together.

Ron turned to Harry expectantly. "I'm not telling either."

Ron sighed, "Okay, let me get this strait," He leaned forwards, "You touched a magic sword, and now you know everyone's dirty little secrets."

"That's not completely right but close enough to count."

"Sounds like a fairy tale." Hermione twirled a strand of hair on her index finger. "You sure you're remembering it right?"

"Yes, Quite sure."

Ron suddenly grinned from ear to ear. "So, anything good on Malfoy?"

"I'm not telling." At Harry's word Ron smacked his hands on his thighs.

"Why not?"

"I refuse to use thisâ€ gift that way." Harry's harsh tone clearly stated that he would not be rebuked.

"He's right Ron, we don't have the right to parade other's secrets around for the whole school to hear, even Malfoy." Hermione looked once more at Harry. "Is this knowledge why you have changed so much?"

Harry grimaced "No, it is not." He put his head in his hands and sat there for a moment. He had been hoping that they would overlook this, but there was no choice, Harry had to tell them that he was Salazar Slytherin; he needed them.

When Harry raised his head tears were in his eyes. "I don't want you guys to interrupt me. This is hard enough to say as it is." He swallowed hard rubbing sweaty palms on his school robe. His fingers reached up and touched the badge on his shoulder. "I shouldn't be wearing this; Gryffindor is not my house."

Both Ron and Hermione started to protest. "No," Harry silenced them. "It is true. At my sorting the hat wanted to put me in Slytherin, saying that I could be great. In second year I learned that Voldemort had transferred some of his power to me. I have thought ever since then that that was the reason the Sorting Hat had wanted me to be a Slytherin.

"Three nights ago, when I touched that sword, it showed me everything about everyone I knew. Then people and places I had never seen before flashed before my eyes, yet they seemed so familiar." Harry stared at his friends noting the shock slowly creeping across their faces. They sill had no idea, or those would be looks of horror.

"The final truth I learned that night was that I have lived a past life. A thousand years ago I helped create this school. I was once called Salazar Slytherin."

"That's funny Harry," Ron laughed weakly.

"I'm not joking Ron. It is the reason I can do advanced spells."

Hermione frowned. "So you lied to us when you said that you had been studying."

"I didn't lie to you, Harry sighed. "I made the statement that I had been studying; I let you draw your own conclusions." He looked pleadingly at his still shocked friends. Ron seemed to not be able to process the information given him. Hermione had a worried frown on her face. "The truth is; I don't think I can lie. Every time I try I can't seem speak."

Hermione raised her eyebrows disbelievingly. "Can't lie? First you say that you are Salazar Slytherin, who is famous for lying, and then you say you can't lie. Isn't that a contradiction in terms?"

Harry saw that she had a point. "Of course Salazar could lie, he was one of the best liars of all time, but I can't." He let out a frustrated growl. "Besides I never said that I am Slytherin. I said I was, past tence, or more accurately a past life. The only difference is I remember it now."

"But you have changed Harry."

_"I'm still me."_ Harry's voice held a deadly intensity.

"Who did you try to lie to, Harry?" The arguing pair turned at the sound of Ron's voice.

"â€." Harry mumbled staring at his feet.

"Who?"

"Dumbledore," Harry admitted.

"Harry," Hermione admonished. "You should have told Dumbledore about this. We need to go speak to him now."

"No," She jumped a Harry's snarl. "I will not tell the Headmaster about this and neither will you." His voice softened. "Hermione there are things I have to do. Important things that Dumbledore conceders trivial to the war against Voldemort. I'm going to need your help and Ron's."

"Harry," Hermione tried again.

"No Hermione. There are things I can't tell Dumbledore. I will talk to him and tell him what he needs to know."

"Isn't that how he treated you, and look what happened. Sirius died." Hermione had gone too far. Harry's green eyes darkened to black and he hid his emotions behind an uncaring mask.

Harry's voice was a cold as the grave and far more frightening. "This is different. I am a dark wizard now and Dumbledore is a light wizard to the core. We can't have any more dissention in ranks if we are going to defeat Voldemort. When Dumbledore finds out that I am a dark wizard more knowledgeable and more powerful than Voldemort he will be obliged to kill me because I can do dark spells now, and I'm not talking about such trivial spells as the Killing Curse."

Hermione fled.

Harry bit his lip until it bled. Tears began to run down his face. "I didn't mean to scare her." Ron looked up from the table he had been staring at the whole time Hermione and Harry had argued. This new Harry did scare him. Hell he had almost pissed himself during that little speech. But seeing the tears on Harry's face and the tragic look in his eyes Ron knew without a doubt that this was still his best friend.

"I know mate. Even I think she went too far with the whole Sirius thing." The silence after those words stretched and knotted itself around the two boys. Finally Ron caught some air in his lungs and broke it. "I believe you Harry. And I meant what I said before I'm your friend; you can count on me."

Harry only nodded his head. With a sigh he deactivated the wards and made his way up the stairs to the dorm. He slipped quietly under the covers. Sometime later he heard Ron come in. After some shuffling noises he heard Ron's voice, "Good night, Harry."

Green shaded lamps shined down on the Slytherin sixth and Seventh years. They were crowded in a semi-circle around the stone fire place. Blaise Zabini stood in front of the fire place presenting a faintly sinister silhouette to the gathered group. Draco sat to one side of the semi-circle, giving him a clear view of the other boy's profile. From what he say Draco suspected that his friend/stalker enjoyed every moment he spent in the spotlight.

He scanned the students as everyone settled in and waited for Blaise to begin. Pansy and her cliché, Tracy and Millicent, sat as close as they could get to Draco. Not by accident both Crabbe and Goyle were seated between the girls and their pray. Pansy tended to hang off Draco like a monkey in a tree if she got too close. Theodore Nott sat next to his girlfriend, a copper headed seventh year named Tanya. On the other side of her the other seventh year were putting on a show of looking annoyed at having to listen to a sixth year speak.

After everyone had settled in Blaise continued to stand quietly with his hands behind his back. Draco gave an exasperated sigh, "Anytime now Zabini. Some of us have better things to do than sit here and stare at you."

"Others may have things to do, my dear Draco, but we all know that you love to stare at my well toned bod." Blaise winked in Draco's direction. Draco blushed a deep red and tried not to gag.

"Fellow Slytherins," Blaise began without pause, "As you all know there is to be a Halloween ball this year." He waited for the assorted "Duhs" and snorts to subside before continuing. But, instead of going to said ball where teachers and such will be to ruin our fun I propose that we throw a little party of our own."

The other Slytherins quickly showed a growing interest in the impromptu meeting. None of them had ever thought of throwing a party. The truth was Slytherins thought of parties as formal get togethers where their parents asserted their wealth, and power to their peers. Informal parties for the most part were and unidentified, foreign object until they came to Hogwarts.

"Now I know that you are all thinking that it will be very difficult to plan a decent party in three weeks on the hush hush, but hey we're Slytherins. "Blaise glanced over at two seventh years across from Draco. "Bole, Warrington, I know each of you have a substantial liquor stash so conceder them confiscated for party purposes. We can get food from the kitchens easily enough. And to create the right atmosphereâ€ we can just steal from the unused rooms of the castle." Draco raised one delicate brow; Blaise had not been idle sense last they talked. "So, do we have a party?" the hyperactive sixth year asked bringing Draco's thoughts back to the matter at hand.

"I say yes," Draco spoke up knowing that his decision would influence the sixth years at least. Ever since his father had been caught he had lost his almost royal status in the house, but his own year stuck by him, mostly, Merlin knew why, and the younger years still feared him.

Pansy immediately jumped up and added her assent fluttering her eyelashes at him. The posse followed. Nott being wrapped around his girlfriend's finger waited for Tanya to nod her head before agreeing. The other seventh years were nodding their heads.

"Who is going to be invited?" one girl Draco didn't know asked.

"No one under sixth year. Let's be responsible or at least restrictive." Blaise answered. "People from other houses can be invited to on the conditions that they can keep their mouth shut, and are not party poopers, I hate those." The girl nodded thoughtfully. Draco suspected she had a boyfriend from another house.

"Who's going to be in charge of what?" Nott spoke up.

"Who wants to do what?" Blaise countered. "Though I believe that Draco should be in charge of decoration since he has such excellent taste."

The rest of the group nodded at this. All but Tanya that is. She glared at Draco and Blaise. "What about me. I want to decorate for the party."

Blaise opened his mouth but Draco got there first before he could say anything stupid. "I think you are out voted on that," Tanya's gaze hardened, "But I would be glad to take any ideas you may have into consideration." He put on his most charming smile.

Tanya gazed at him for a while longer before nodding her head. Everyone else sighed in relief. Tanya was known to be very shrill when she didn't get her way. Ten minutes of her screeching made a person feel as though they had crawled off the battle field after a resounding loss.

Draco went on, "The final decisions will be mine though."

"Well," Blaise interrupted before Tanya could open her mouth. "Everyone that wishes to help Draco with decorating for the party can meet with him tomorrow." He turned to Draco and fluttered his eyelashes. In Draco's opinion he looked a lot like Pansy when he did that and about as attractive. "I know I'll be there." The small boy finished.

"I'll do food." Veronica Kingston, a seventh year announced. "What I want to know is where will this party take place?"

Everyone stared at Veronica blankly. "Knew I forgot something." Blaise muttered.

"I know," Warrington grinned. "There is a large unused dungeon under the potions class rooms."

Blaise nodded. "I know the place." He laughed, "It's perfect."

They talked some more not really getting anywhere. Draco was tired of it. Nothing else would get done tonight, rather this morning he corrected looking at his watch. Draco stood up and stretched. Everyone stopped talking and turned toward him. _Nice to see I'm loved_, he thought. With all eyes on him Draco gave a delicate yawn. "I believe that I will turn in now." He announced. "Anyone who wants to help decorate can meet me tomorrow after dinner." He turned and strode to the sixth year boy's dorm.

Draco couldn't believe it. Blaise actually thought he could attract Draco's attention by acting like Pansy. Not only did he think it was disgusting that anyone would mimic Pansy he wasn't even gay. As for love, it was a weakness. Draco couldn't afford weaknesses, not with his father. No he already had fear, he did not need love too.

Luscious Malfoy wanted his son to be a Deatheater. Expected it, even from a prison cell. Draco was still trying to find the guts to tell his father that Voldemort was a crazy bastard and to take the Dark Mark and shove it.

Draco sighed and sat on the foot of his bed. _Perhaps I should run away._ Draco grimaced. There was no way he was going to become a rogue wizard. He finished getting ready for bed. _Maybe if I had some protection, but no one would ever believe that Draco Malfoy would not want to be a Deatheater_. Draco punched his pillow. He then remembered Blaise's slur on his sexual orientation. _Now there's something I can use to my advantage_.


	6. Stress is a Four Letter Word if You Hiss...

Thank you once again for all the lovely reviews.

Now we start to get into the story, and a note on the title of this chapter for anyone who actually reads this part of an update. I'm going off the idea that in Parsteltoung stress consist of four letters.

FYI: This is a very involved story don't assume anything is trivial.

Stress is a Four Letter Word If You Hiss It

Harry woke up the next morning very disoriented. _Why is everything red?_ A voice in the back of his mind told him that his bed hangings had always been red, but he ignored it in favor of staring bemusedly around him. Red drapes surrounded the bed, and his hand plucked at a red coverlet. Oh ya, I was sorted into Gryffindor's house. He frowned. _What was I thinking? I can hear Gryffindor laughing. Red isn't even my color for crying out loud._

"Harry?" a familiar voice queried from the other side of the drapes interrupting his internal and rather plaintive rant. The wall of fabric was thrust aside to reveal a freckled face and flaming red hair. "It's almost time for breakfast." He stared askance at his friend. "What's wrong?"

When Ron had opened the drapes Harry's hand had darted under the pillow for the knife he swore should have been there. "Don't ever do that again."

"Do what?"

Harry looked his best friend dead in the eye. "Don't come up on me all of a sudden like that. If there had been a blade under my pillow you would be dead now." He slid over to the edge of the bed and swung his feet down. "Ron," Harry gazed into his friend's eyes with the sincerest gaze he had. "I have developed certain reflexes ever since that night. Please, try not to surprise me. I'm not in full control of my initial reactions."

"What kind of reactions, Harry?" Ron said his best friend's name with desperation, thinking that if he could remind the boy that he was Harry Potter not Salazar Slytherin, Ron could keep his friend from changing into someone else.

"The dangerous kind," Harry got up and strode to the bathroom. At the door he turned around. "Don't worry Ron; I'm still me and you're still my best friend. I would never hurt either you or Hermione."

"I know that Harry, but no matter what you say you have changed. What did you get exactly from finding out you are Slytherin?" Ron waited for the answer with dreadful anticipation. He wanted to keep his friend.

Harry looked thoughtful, "It's a whole life. Thoughts, feelings, memories, everything merged with my own. Truly, I have a hard time separating on life from the other. Hermione is afraid of me because of that, because I couldn't control my impulses."

Ron bit his lip. "I'll talk to Hermione for you. She'll understand; she just needs time to adjust. We both do." He quickly crossed the room and enveloped Harry in a friendly hug. "I'll be there to help you and so will Hermione."

"You're not scarred of me?"

"Well, yes, but I can get over it. Unlike you I'm a Gryffindor to the bone." Ron smiled. "I think you should tone down on the vocabulary, though. You sound too adult."

"Bwhu?"

"See that last one went right by me."

"Well then perhaps you should try it," Harry's eye developed and evil glint. "Hermione would be impressed."

"Shut up." Ron yelled punching Harry on the shoulder.

Harry dodged the blow expertly. "I would love to continue, but nature calls." He disappeared through the bathroom door shutting it behind him.

Ron shook his head. Harry had become a bit prissier than he would like, but that could be fixed with time. He went to his trunk to look for his socks. Suddenly an inarticulate scream reverberated from the bathroom. Ron rushed over and almost had the door open when the voice inside continued. "God damn it!" Harry yelled at the top of his lungs. "Is it too much to ask to only have to go through puberty once! Fuck, it was bad enough the first time!" He continued in this vain for quite some time.

Ron looked at the room behind him. Neville and Dean were already down stairs and Seamus could sleep through anything. In fact, he was still sleeping. Seeing no danger of Harry's secret being reviled, Ron slid down the door and indulged in a good laugh. _Maybe he's not all that prissy._

The boys made it down to the dinning hall for breakfast without any more outbursts from Harry. Ron sat next to Hermione as if nothing were out of the ordinary. Harry debated whether or not to sit with them and ended up choosing a place on the other side of Ron. Hermione flinched as he sat down. Throughout the meal she kept stealing glances at him. Harry couldn't for the life of him figure out why; he didn't look any different. Then he noticed that every time she glanced at him her eyes would stray up to Dumbledore at the head table.

_Shit. She's going to tell him._ It looked as if his meeting with Dumbledore would be bumped up a week or two. Harry had to tell him something before Hermione told him everything. _Shit, shit, shit,_ "Ron I have to go, something I've got to do." _Shit, shit, shit_. Harry kept up his new and very appropriate mantra all the way to the Headmaster's office. _Password?_

"Cockroach clusters," Harry tried tentatively. "Fizzing wizzbie, lemon drop..." The list grew and grew. When he ran out of wizerding sweets, Harry went on to muggle candies.

"Actually it's tidily winks." Harry turned to face the Headmaster. "I trust that you want to talk now."

"Yes, sir."

"Well, come in then. If you're going to miss class you might as well be comfortable doing it." Dumbledore smiled at Harry. "Would you like some tea?"

"Yes please, tea would be great." Harry stepped apprehensively into the Headmaster's office. He was not ready for this meeting, but there was no hope for it. Dumbledore glided over to the fire place where there sat two comfy looking armchairs and a conveniently placed tea set. As the old man magicked up some tea Harry turned to where the picture of Godric Gryffindor hung on the wall. He gave the founder a cheeky smile and executed a complicated hand gesture that would tell the portrait exactly who he was. Gryffindor stared in shock before recovering enough to stick his toung out at the teen.

"Now Godric, be nice to Harry he's not in any trouble and I might add in your own house." Upon hearing this, the man pirouetted and dropped below the frame of the picture. Laughter filled the room. Harry was of course bright red. Dumbledore didn't have to remind Godric of that. "Mind sharing the joke?" The Headmaster handed Harry a cup of tea.

Harry shot Gryffindor a warning look. "It's nothing, old friend; I just find it hard to believe that that young man is not in trouble." Dumbledore nodded his head smiling that vapid smile that crossed his face every time he was thinking hard and trying to hide it.

Harry shrugged. "Headmaster," he started not quite sure where to begin. "I don't really know what to say..."

"Just start at the beginning, Harry. Take your time."

"Well sir, I just woke up in the forest without any memory of getting there. Then this woman jumps down out of the trees and tells me that she can fix my eyesight. After that she pulled out this giant sword and then there was this flash of white light and then I woke up in the hospital wing." Harry, mindful of what Ron told him earlier, hoped he sounded like an adolescent.

"Harry, that doesn't make sense. The way you tell it the blinding light half the school saw was created only to fix your eyes." Dumbledore peered over the top of his glasses at Harry.

_So, blatant stupidity isn't going to work. Okay let's let him feel the edges of what he is dealing with_. "No sir, the light was information. I know what I must do now and why." Harry's voice turned cold and emotionless as the night.

Dumbledore sat with a grave look on his face, "What must you do?"

The boy smiled. "Kill Voldemort of course. I would appreciate it if you and the order would stay out of my way."

"Harry-"

"No, the subject is not open to debate. I have reasons to kill that bastard that you could not comprehend. This fight is between me and him, anyone who gets in the way, their life is forfeit." Harry softened his voice with effort. "The Order needs to protect the people. It is what they are good at, and they should concentrate on getting better at it."

Dumbledore sat down his tea cup and sighed. "Your not going to give me any choice in the matter are you?"

"No."

The Headmaster looked every one of his hundred plus years. "I only want to protect you, Harry."

"There is nothing to protect me from, Headmaster." With that Harry spun around and stormed out of the room.

_Shit, shit, shit, that could have gone a lot better. _Harry had not meant to give so much away. Now Dumbledore was suspicious, not a good thing. If the old man figured out the truth he would... not kill, but what ever he did it would be unpleasant. My only hope is if both the Headmaster and Hermione assumed he had told them each the same thing. One wrong word and he would have to run, again.

He was half way to class when his frazzled nerves took their toll. _Where am I going? _Harry stood for a moment before remembering he was supposed to be in Transfiguration, preferably with books. He trudged up to the Gryffindor tower and then, with his book bag, down to the class. He got there just in time to see everyone leaving. Grimacing he continued on to meet Pro. McGonagall. "Sorry for missing class Professor; I had to see the headmaster."

The prim witch tapped her quill on her desk. "That's all right Mr. Potter, but next time be more careful when you schedule your appointments. As for the work you missed: read Chapter 15 in your book, look at Hermione's notes and you should do just fine." She gave him a probing look. "Don't you have another class to get to?"

_Potions! _Snape was going to have him for an early lunch. Harry bolted. At least he had the needed books already in his bag, thank the Mother Night for small blessings. "Don't even think about it," He vehemently snapped as the stair case he was on began to shift. The school recognized that aura, and it was not copasetic, the stair case shuddered back into position as Harry flew past.

He made it to the potions class room in time to barrel into Snape. "Mr. Potter, if you wish to be late for class by all means be so, but please refrain from trying to kill me during your dramatic entrance." The Potions Master rasped as he rose from the floor and straitened his robes. "Fifteen points from Gryffindor and detention. Now sit down!" Snape turned abruptly and stalked to the front of the room.

"Seeing as you have yet to kill yourselves or a classmate so far at the NEWT level I believe it is time to try something more, interesting." He smiled a sadistic smile at the class. "Today we will be brewing the counter potion to the Inferno potion. I suggest you do a good job, you may find yourself needing this potion next week." At least half of the class shuddered.

The speech even gave Harry pause. He knew that Pro. Snape would never intentionally hurt one of his students, on some level anyway, but with the way he taught...

"Well, what are you all staring at." The class collectively jumped into a flurry of motion at Snape caustic demand.

Harry made it through the class in no more than two pieces. An accomplishment considering the day he had been having. He took a vile of his potion up to Snape's desk. As he sat it down the Professor's voice stopped him. "Mr. Potter, I expect to see you at eight o' clock sharp for your detention."

"Yes, sir," was Harry's dull reply as he headed back to his desk to clean up. Blessedly he had a two hour free period before his care of magical creatures class. He made his way down to the Great Hall for lunch. Seeing as he didn't eat breakfast Harry's stomach gurgled all along the way. He ate in like a starving man.

Harry was debating on whether he could handle thirds when Ron bounced, actually _bounced_ into the chair across from him. The red head smiled at Harry. "Hey, Harry. Guess what."

"What?" Harry almost moaned. How dare Ron be so cheerful around him.

"I took your advice about Hermione and asked her out to the dance. She said yes." Ron continued to smile. "She even said that she would sit with us today." He did a double take at his best friend. "Your day not so good?"

"No"

"Wanna tell me about it"

"Maybe later when it's not an open wound. Let's just say I have detention with Snape and leave it at that."

"Ouch"

"Yah."

As Ron finished loading finished loading up his plate Hermione joined them. She still seemed a bit skittish around Harry, but when Ron pointed out that Harry couldn't hurt anything in his present condition she reluctantly agreed.

After lunch Harry went to the library with Hermione's notes to catch up on transfiguration. Studying he found could be very relaxing. Then came to the conclusion that Salazar Slytherin was one weird cookie. Care of magical creatures was only mildly stressful considering thy were studying miniature hydras. Why anyone would want a hydra as a pet was beyond Harry.

On the way down to the dungeons for his detention the muscles in Harry's shoulders began to tighten. He mentally prepared himself for the trials ahead. The class room door was open when he reached it.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, glad you could make it." Harry resisted the urge to glare a whole in the greasy git. "As you can see my third years were working on an adhesive potion." Snape handed him a bucket and scrubber. "I told them you would be nice enough to clean up after them."

"Yes, sir," Harry took the supplies and began to scrub.

It was some three hours later when he heard Snape hiss. Harry's head shot up, with the stabbing pain in his scare, to meet the Professor's glittering eyes. "Finish up and go back to your dorm." Snape gritted out before hurrying out of the room.

_What could Moldywart want this time._ Harry sat back on his heels where he was scrubbing at the adhesive where it had spilled next to the work bench. He quickly cast a cleaning spell and waited for the visions.

_Harry was plunged into darkness. The only light was that which surrounded Voldemort's cloaked figure. Deatheaters surrounded him in a loose semi-circle. Each one was on his or her knees waiting. Harry practically felt the fear radiating off the huddled figures._

"_I feel a challenger," the Dark Lord hissed. "Somewhere out there is a wizard who would take away my title as Dark Lord!" The gathered Deatheaters stared in horror at their Master. "No," Vodemort continued. "It is not one of you my faithful servants." He stepped forward. "I want you to hunt down this brazen wizard. For now I want information on anyone you suspect of gathering support. THIS CHALLENGER WILL BE ELIMINATED!" The hissing voice dropped to a whisper. "And any traitors will be eliminated with him..."_

Harry woke to find himself on the floor of the potions class room. Today was not his day. Snape would tell Dumbledore about the meeting and the old coot wasn't stupid; he could put two and two together. He had to get on damage control fast.

He groaned as he pushed himself to his feet. _Stone is not best for napping_, he noted. Though he would hardly call that a restful sleep. Harry trudged down the corridor hell bent on getting back to Gryffindor Tower and more importantly bed, when he heard foot steps behind him. _What now?_

Suddenly Harry found himself against the wall, and another's body was pressed up against him. _Whoa!_ His vision cleared enough for him to see platinum blond hair. _Draco?!_

"Little Gryffindors shouldn't be wandering around in the dungeons at night." The boy purred in his ear. It took Harry some time to process the situation. _No, wait...Draco, but in the Great Hall. Yesss,_ his mind hissed at him, _that revulsion was an uncontrolled reaction. _

Harry called Draco's bluff. He nipped at the blonds ear and purred. "I was only looking for a little fun." He felt Draco stiffen momentarily and turn bright red. "So," Harry continued in a more normal tone. "What do you want so badly that you would try to seduce me?"

Draco stepped back and eyed Harry. The Gryffindor wasn't acting as he expected. He was supposed to blush and stutter, possibly try to run away. Harry was not supposed to take the initiative. "Like I would ever come to you for anything." Draco answered, his trademark sneer firmly in place.

"Not overtly, but you are desperate for something if your trying to seduce a scrawny runt like me, and I don't mean for sex." Harry glanced up and down the corridor before dragging the blond into a small alcove. Draco dug in his heel. "Damn it. I'm not going to rape you." Harry pulled the boy into the shadows. "Spill."

Draco bit his lip. "Fine you got me." He sighed. "I don't want to become a Deatheater and grovel at that bastard, half-breed's feet. I figured that if I was seen with you that I could get the good faith and protection of the light side."

"But you're a dark wizard, and I know you won't change your views."

"Desperate times."

Harry wanted to scream every profanity he knew. He did not need this right now. What was he going to do with the boy. _Wait._ His lips curved into a smile. "Okay Draco, you want a sham relationship, you got one." The blond opened his mouth. "Hear me out," Harry stopped him. "If you don't mind _pretending_ that we are in a relationship. I'll sing your good graces to everyone that matters and teach you to stand up to that father of yours. Of course, the rumor of The Boy Who Lived and the Slyterin Prince as a couple will be flying up and down the halls by the end of the week."

Draco frowned. "Embarrassing but unavoidable. What do you get out of this?"

Harry gave Draco a feral smile, "You will get me into the Slytherin dorms."

Draco jumped. "What? Why?"

"All in good time." Harry's voice hardened. "Do we have a deal?"

"If I don't keep my part of the bargain?"

"I could just as easily denounce you a traitor."

Draco thought for a moment. "Deal." He glanced around the corridor. "When's our first pseudo tryst?"

"Tomorrow after classes. Meet me at the quiditch pitch." Harry started jauntily down the hall glad something went right today.


	7. Ambiguous

There isn't much action in this chapter, sorry about that, but I do let slip a bit about Slytherin's life to make up for it. As you have probably noticed I've had problem with point of view change on I have just written **pov change** at each switch and hopefully it will go through this time grrrrrrrrrrr!

Thanks again for the reviews!!!

Ambiguous

Harry woke the next morning feeling refreshed. He had a lot to be thankful for: yesterday was behind him, and it was Friday. The prospect of not going to class was a blessing after the hectic week he had had. Harry lounged in bed until the last possible moment then hurried to get dressed and down to breakfast before it disappeared. Students were just finishing up when he entered the dinning hall. Harry swept by the table and nicked a couple pieced of toast as the tables emptied. He sighed that was a close one.

Ron waited for him at the foot of the stair. "I didn't think you were going to make it." The red head fell into step beside his friend. "In a better mood today?" Harry only nodded munching on his toast. "Are you going to tell me why you were mad yesterday or am I going to have to play two hundred questions?"

Harry stopped a frown on his face. He swallowed the toast he had been chewing. "Two hundred questions? I thought it was twenty questions."

"I'm no good a guessing. Spill."

Harry smiled at his friend's admission. He shrugged. "Yesterday I had a problem, but today is better."

"So the problem's fixed."

"No."

"No?" Ron stared at his friend aghast. "Then how can it be better?"

"Because now I know what to do about it." Harry eyed his friend. "Hey Ron, I think I'm coming down with Marauder Syndrome, want to learn a new spell?" They had reached the Charms class room by now so Ron couldn't answer, but he did smile and wink at his friend.

Harry smiled back. He was tired of being paranoid. If this was what it meant to be Slytherin he wanted no part of House or Founder. Harry looked around the room and spotted Hermione over by the window and porously sat next to her. She glanced at him before returning to her book. _That's 'Mione for ya, werewolves wouldn't keep her from studying. _Harry took the girl's transfiguration note out of his bag and slipped them onto the page she was reading. "Peace offering," He elaborated, "I bring knowledge."

Hermione huffed a laugh. "I bring chocolate." She reached into her bag and handed Harry a chocolate frog.

Harry blinked. "How did... where..."

Hermione giggled. "I always have them with me, and give them to you and Ron when you get board with studying. It's good for ten minutes silence and neither of you even realize your eating them." Her eyes glazed over. "It's funny really. The both of you are just like little boys, and Heaven help me, I'm your mother."

Harry blushed. _I do so know when I'm eating_, he thought furiously completely oblivious to the fact he was munching on the chocolate frog. He turned to Hermione to tell her just that, but all her attention was on Pro. Flit wick: class had started. He shrugged, at least they were friends again. _Where did that chocolate frog go?_

**pov change**

After classes Harry was pounced on by Ron, literally. The red head had hung back to speak to the new DADA teacher, Pro. Sternidel. Next thing Harry knew he was on the ground. "Jee mate, if I had known you were going to fall over I wouldn't have surprised you."

Harry glared up at his friend. Does surprise mean push in your vocabulary?"

Ron pitied his friend some times. "I do have five brothers, so yes, I do believe

just about everything goes back to pushing, teasing, or shoving. Just be careful of what you eat and you should be fine." This did not bode well for the near future. "What about that new spell you were talking about?"

"Well, as you know I've learned a few new spells." Harry hedged. "One of them is perfect for a prank."

Ron nodded his head, "Tell me. What?" Harry's brow had quirked at the sincerity of his tone. "Hey I am related to The Weasely Twins."

Harry shook his head, "Well then let's talk, my friend."

**pov change**

Both boys arrived at dinner still giggling. No one paid them any attention, the trio lived in its own little world, and they reasoned that it probably wasn't that funny anyway. Harry and Ron sat with Hermione. Ron let out a cheer when Harry sat down across from the studious girl.

"Finally made up did you."

"In a manner of speaking." Hermione turned toward Harry. "You told Dumbledore."

"Yes, I told him what I could. Do you forgive me?" Harry did his best puppy-eyed impression. Hermione giggled and nodded her head. _Maybe this wont be so bad, he doesn't act any different toward me_, she thought. Hermione was still a bit scared of her friend. _Only time will tell._

"I forgive you." Hermione paused for a moment. "What do you mean: 'I told him what I could?" Harry paused for too long. "You didn't tell him about your past life." Hermione crossed her arms.

Harry ducked his head. "I told you why I couldn't do that." He glanced down the table. "Can we not talk about this here?"

"Whatever." Hermione studiously ignored him for the rest of the meal.

**pov change**

Harry sighed as he made his way out to the pitch. Hermione was mad at him, very mad. _ At least she's no longer afraid if that look in her meant anything Hermione wanted to hit me._ He understood, in principle why Hermione wanted him to tell Dumbledore, but the bottom line was that Harry didn't trust the old man. It wasn't so much that the Headmaster wanted to protect him it's that the old coot kept information from Harry that could have saved a life. Sirius' life.

He came out on the pitch and spotted a blond head sitting in the stands. Harry blinked. He shuffled over to Draco and sat down. The other boy moved to put at least three feet between them. "I thought you would have me waiting out here for the rest of the night." Harry stated, impressed with Draco's punctual ness.

The blond glared. "I want to know what you're up to."

"Well, today I just thought we would talk. I told you what I'm going to do. I'm going to teach you to stand up to your father. On my honor." Harry gazed at the sun sinking behind the trees.

"Honor? It didn't sound like you had any honor left last night. What happened to that Slytherin Harry?" Draco set his quarry as a jab and succeeded abominably. Harry flinched at the mention of Slytherin. _If only you knew, Draco, if only you knew._

"I have things I have to do no matter the cost to myself."

"Still planning to defeat the Dark Lord all by yourself," Draco sneered. "you are so full of yourself. It sickens me."

"But you do like what I have to offer. Maybe I can even bring you over to my side." Harry smiled at Draco.

"Don't hold your breath Potter; I still hate mudbloods and muggles. I only don't what to be a slave for the rest of my life. I'm still against everything you stand for." Draco tried to stare Harry down.

Harry ducked his head, "Fair enough, but your end of the deal..."

"Don't worry Potter, I'll keep our bargain."

"Couldn't expect anything more. All right then, let's get started."

Draco jumped. "I thought we were only going to talk."

"We are, but I think you'll want to know what to expect." At Draco's nod Harry continued. "Draco, I can't put this lightly and I'm sorry, but You are a spineless wimp." Draco glared. "I'm going to have to teach you confidence. A little bit of Gryffindorness will be good for you." Harry almost laughed at the look of pure horror on the blond boy's face. "The only way I know how to do that is to teach you how to fight."

"Wait a minute, I only want protection..."

"And I'm going to give you that protection, for all that he was a fraud, Moody's idea of 'constant vigilance' that he taught in class is a good thing to keep in mind."

"That man was crazy," Draco shouted.

"Yes I know but the idea is rather Slytherin if you think about it. I said I would protect you from Voldemort," Draco flinched at the name, "and I'm going to do that by teaching you to protect yourself. The only way I know how to do that is to teach you how to knife fight."

Draco blinked. "Knife fight? You know how to fight with knives?"

"Yes, and I'm going to teach you."

"But that's a muggle thing. An out of date muggle thing at that."

"Draco, let me tell you a story. You wont believe it but it's true." Harry looked down at his hands, he didn't know why he was doing this. "A long time ago," He began, "There was a young wizard who for the most part couldn't do anything beyond basic spells. One day said idiot stole an ancient manuscript from a library that was going to be burned for housing heretic books. He figured he could get some money on the black market for it.

"Anyway. One night with nothing better to do the boy opened the book and tried to puzzle through all the squiggly lines inside, without much success. He flipped through the book looking at the pretty pictures until he came to a page that he could read. This was a shock for the boy considering peasants weren't known for their reading skills back then and vagabonds less so. But he did read that page. On that page was a type of creed for the Dark Lord..."

"Whoa, wait a moment. Are you trying to tell me there are rules to being a Dark Lord?"

"Not really, _The_ Dark Lord pretty much has free reign after he kills his predecessor." Draco blinked. "Back then," Harry continued, "Or I should say long before then the Dark Lord wasn't some manic that wanted to take over the world. The Dark Lord was the High Priest of a magical religious order. That creed compels whoever reads it to go out and kill the current Dark Lord and take his place."

"And a boy who could hardly do magic read the creed?" At Harry's nod Draco exploded. "That's preposterous!"

"I know, but it's true. And the boy did hunt down the Dark Lord..."

"And died a horrible death, the end."

"Actually no, the Old Dark Lord was a pompous ass, and got within twenty feet of said boy confident that the squirt couldn't do anything. The boy just happened to have a gift for throwing knives. Pompous Ass got one in the left eye and Little Squirt became the new Dark Lord."

"That's a load of crap, you can't beat a wizard with a knife."

"Oh really," was the only warning Draco got before something scraped the hair on top of his head. He turned around to see one of the dinner knives embedded in the wooden bench. "Sorry, didn't mean to nick you. Dinner knives aren't really for throwing. I did hit my target though." Harry pointed out with childish pride.

"The bench isn't much of a target, I could have hit it." Draco spat.

"Take a closer look." Draco sighed and looked at the knife again not really seeing the point. Then he saw it. The knife wasn't only imbedded in the wood. It pinned a fire fly there. Draco gulped.

"Do you want to learn? It wouldn't be what your enemies expect."

Draco turned to the Gryffindor. "I still think that story is a load of crap."

"I wouldn't believe it either if I didn't already know it was true. So yes?"

"Yes, but how. You don't expect me to learn with stolen dinner knives do you?"

Harry smiled. "No, the room of requirement will have everything we need." His voice hardened. "I trust you still know where it is."

"Yes," Draco whispered back.

"See you Sunday then."

"Why not tomorrow."

"I have other plans." Harry winked at him and strode off to meet Ron.

**pov change**

"Man I hope Filch doesn't catch us." Ron muttered as he cast yet another spell on the entry way to the Great Hall.

"He wont," Harry assured. "Cast the purple now."

"Why do we have to cast each spell separately?"

"So that all the colors attach to the proper personality trait, if we don't everyone will end up being grey." Harry answered.

"Well, that would server the purpose of the prank and be much faster."

"But this is a personality spell, Ron; I suggest you take notes. Tomorrow will be interesting."

Ron smiled wickedly at his friend, "I can't wait. Blue next?"


	8. Truth Hurts

Sorry this one took so long to get up. It was sitting half finished on my computer for over a week, but here it is.

I have also started another collection of short stories of Godric and Salazar, "The Drinking Chronicles." Please read and review it. You'll laugh, I promise.

Truth Hurts

The next night everyone sat down to dinner in their usual fashion. Gryffindors came first for the most part, ready as ever for a meal. Ron stepped through the door of the Great Hall and paused. He looked curiously at the backs of his freckled hands, and then flipped them over to stare at the palms. Harry nudged him into moving on with a meaningful look on his face. "Nothing will happen until dinner starts." He whispered to his best friend. Ron squinted at Harry then shrugged and sat down in his usual place.

Hermione leaned across the table as the pair sat down. "What was all that about?" Both boys looked at her blankly. "The 'Nothing will happen until dinner starts.'"

Harry made a note to watch Hermione's seemingly supersonic hearing. "Ron and I are playing a little prank, nothing big."

Hermione leaned forward a little more. "What kind of prank?" While Ron stared blissfully down the front of her blouse Harry whispered into her ear. Hermione's eyes widened in surprise and started to giggle. It was uncontrollable, several people turned their way. Hermione waved her hand at them, "I'm sorry, it's just," she broke into another laughing fit. "Ron, Ron! Stop looking down my shirt!" The group of boys nearest the trio laughed at that, and one winked at Ron, who was currently fighting his hair for attention.

"That was a good cover." Harry commented to the still giggling girl. He turned to his plate a bit miffed that there still was no food.

"I wasn't covering; I can't do that." Hermione bit her lip. "I'm not terribly observant today either. I had just noticed why Ron neglected to join us in conversation." Ron blushed again at her words.

Harry smiled and gazed over the room. _Ah, now everyone looks to be present. Shortly..._ Inside his head Harry gave way to the childish need to rub his hands together and cackle. Dinner appeared on the table without further ado. Harry started to eat. "Oh my God!" He heard from across the room. "Anna your purple!" "And you're yellow!" Anna shouted back. Everyone in the hall was buzzing about the now very colorful population of Hogwarts. Harry grinned and looked up at a light, powder blue Hermione and a bright red Ron. "So, what color am I?"

"Black and glittery silver." Ron answered puzzled.

"It's standard for what I am," Harry answered the unasked question Ron gazed blankly at Harry for a moment. "Tell you later." With that Harry went back to people watching. He noticed that orange was concentrated at the Slytherin table. No surprise there; orange was the color he had assigned to those who had taken the Dark Mark. A few at the Ravenclaw table and surprisingly an orange face or two in the Hufflepuff crowd Harry turned to the teachers table and busted out laughing. His friends frowned at his behavior. All Harry could do was point at Snape.

It was by far the most colorful he had ever seen the morose potions master. Snape sat, back strait, positively livid. The look on his face could have killed a basilisk. His still black hair fell in greasy clots around an orange face that rose out of his usual black robes. In short Pro. Snape was fit to stand as a Halloween decoration. After a startled moment Ron and Hermione began to laugh with him.

Dumbledore rose and the noise vanished. Harry privately thought that that was the most amazing magic he had ever seen. _Wonder if I can learn that._ The headmaster stood proud and sea foam green before his students. "First of all I would like to commend whoever took the liberty of decorating for this unplanned but festive dinner. Secondly, I am sure that the spell will wear off in a few hours, and finally, let's eat." He sat down.

"Well, that was vaguely disappointing." Hermione stabbed a beef patty onto her plate. "Or just vague." She shrugged and began to eat. "So, Harry," she asked a bit tentatively, "What do the colors mean?"

Harry ran his tongue over his teeth. "I don't think we should talk about this here." The Slytherin side of him kept blathering about all the people that could over here the conversation, and why in the hell he was having it here? "All I'm going to tell you now is to take special note of the orange ones."

His friends looked at him. "Okay," Hermione sighed. This was immensely interesting. She quietly took out a note book and began jotting down names and colors so she wouldn't forget any.

Ron and Harry glanced at each other. "I think she's found an academic interest in our prank," Harry commented.

"If you say so," Ron went back to eating, still looking around with interest. "Hey, Collin is fuchsia."

Harry turned to look at the camera wielding boy. Collin was happily clicking away. "Funny, I don't remember using that color," he muttered. He went back to studying the Slytherin table. When he spotted Draco he had to smile. The blond boy was a bright green, _almost like my pet basilisk... crap_; Harry put his face in his hands_. I have got to take better care of my pets._

Nix wasn't the first basilisk that had gotten out of hand, but she was his favorite. The fact that Voldemort had used his baby pissed him off all the more. He saw red, _wait, no that's Ron. Damn I want to kill that bastard._

Harry just stopped thinking. It was too painful. He finished his dinner, enjoying the colorful surroundings. Harry giggled. Some things were always funny, no matter how many times you pulled the joke.

Later that night Harry sat, once again, across from Hermione and Ron. The only difference was that the two sat closer together than they had the last time and they were different colors. Harry thought of how he was going to word what he wanted to say. His plan was risky to say the least, and both Ron and Hermione would be dead set against it if he didn't say this right. "Okay," He began, "You both know that I had an ulterior motive to that little prank, which has nothing to do with the fact that I'll be laughing about this for weeks."

Ron nodded his head. "I'm going to write to Fred and George and tell them; they'll be so jealous."

Harry shook his head. He bent to retrieve a folded sheet of paper from his bag. "Here, Hermione, this is a list of all the colors and what they mean. Ron already knows most of them except..."

"For orange and fuchsia and your color," Ron finished.

Harry scratched his head. "I don't know about fuchsia either that's just weird." His voice turned serious. "But the orange ones are Deatheaters."

His friends stared. "That many, or do you mean possible Deatheaters?" Hermione scanned her own list of observations. "Harry, there's fifteen names in orange."

"Counting Pro. Snape. I'm going to give a list of names to Dumbledore tonight. If Snape hasn't told him I will and if he already knows..."

"Why wouldn't Snape tell him?" Ron scratched his head.

Harry shrugged, "To protect someone."

"What do you plan to do with this information?" Hermione chewed her bottom lip.

"I plan to change their minds." Harry's friends looked skeptical at that.

"How do you plan that?" Ron asked.

"Charm." Now his friends were staring at him like he was crazy.

Hermione heaved a huge sigh. "There is no helping you."

"I know," Harry answered cheekily.

There was a short silence before Ron, bighting his lip burst out, "What about your color. I don't know what that one means either."

Harry sighed, he had known this was coming. He ran his fingers through his messy hair. "Well... um, you remember when Hermione and I had our little argument?" Hermione bowed her head, and mumbled and apology that Harry chose to ignore. "Well, I'm not just a dark wizard; I am The Dark Lord."

"Harry, Voldemort is The Dark Lord." Hermione pointed out with a frown on her face.

"Yes, he is, and that is why I must kill him." Harry continued despite their shocked looks. "There can only be one Dark Lord at a time. It is tradition is that the Dark Lord's heir must kill the Dark Lord to take his place."

"But Harry there has been hundreds of dark lords over the centuries. Sometimes more than one alive in any given decade." Hermione pointed out.

"The term Dark Lord has come to mean, a man that has aspirations to take over the world, but in ancient times _The _Dark Lord was the High Priest of an old religion that revolved around dark magic." Harry gazed steadily at his friends. Ron looked confused, and Hermione fascinated if skeptical.

"How is the Dark Lord chosen?" The girl asked.

"There is a scroll with the Creed of the Dark Lord on it. All you have to do is read it."

Hermione frowned. "When did you read it?"

"About a thousand years ago." Harry ran his fingers through his hair. "I shouldn't be telling you this; I'm such an idiot."

"You're not and idiot Harry."

"Thanks."

Just don't go take over the world. If you do Hermione and I will be very disappointed in you." Ron grinned.

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. "Ron, I've spent the last two life times trying to get the world to leave me alone. I'm not going to stop now."

0000000

Early the next day Harry was standing outside the headmaster's office having a very interesting conversation with himself as a third year Ravenclaw would later attest. She had hid around the corner and witnessed the whole episode.

"I really shouldn't be telling him about this," Harry argued with himself. "Dumbledore probably already knows about the Deatheaters. Besides it's not like he's going to help me." He frowned and countered his own estimate of the situation. "But what if he doesn't know? It is the right thing to do anyway you look at it. Rowan did say I need to learn to trust again." He stopped again. "Trust is not something you hand out like candy. It has to be earned. What has the old coot done to earn my trust?" And on the other hand. "Many things, in his own way. He only wants to protect me." Harry's voice turned harsh. "Bloody good job he's done of it too."

In the end Harry squelched the part of him that was Salazar, but he did agree that this was the Headmaster's last chance. If he wouldn't work with Harry he was against Harry. The boy gave the password and rode the revolving stair up to the Headmaster's office.

Inside he found Dumbledore sitting in a plush chair across from Pro. Snape. The potions master looked annoyed at being interrupted. He set his tea cup down hard enough to slosh a good portion of tea onto the saucer. "Have you not learned how to knock, Potter?" He spat.

Harry gritted his teeth and reminded himself of Snape's good points: his work for the order and trying to keep Slyterin House from falling apart. "Well, Potter, can you also not speak."

_Hang it all,_ Harry thought. "Sir," he started in a glacial voice that dropped five degrees with every word. "I appreciate your honest if misguided opinion of me, but rubbing it in every time we meet is getting old. I would prefer it if we both agree that your opinion is well known and doesn't need to be stated every other hour." By the time Harry finished speaking his lips had turned blue with cold and the room had taken on a distinct chill. Cursing, he quickly dispelled the Void Magic that he had accidentally called and the room began to warm up again. Harry knew from Salazar's experience that it would be several hours before he could be considered a warm blooded mammal again.

Snape stared at Harry in astonishment. Instead of answering he reached out and flipped over his tea cup. Then he tapped the bottom of it with is wand. When the cup was lifted a frozen clump of tea was left on the saucer. "Interesting display Potter, I didn't know that you knew Dark Magic."

Harry's eyes widened. Could it be possible that Snape knew Void Magic, not many did. He turned to Dumbledore, who had a frown on his wrinkled face. "I will leave you to your meeting." Harry turned to go.

"Hold on Harry," Dumbledore's voice stopped the boy in his tracks. "I think you should explain to me what you just did."

Harry cursed again. He bit his lip. "I didn't know I was doing it," He hedged wishing more than anything that he could lie. "What was that?" He wondered if either of the two men actually knew.

Dumbledore frowned again. "I don't know." He looked worried. "I want you to tell me if this happens again, Harry."

"Understood, Sir." This was bad. Dumbledore was suspicious. "But the reason I came here, Sir was to give you this." Harry pulled a folded piece of parchment from his robes with the names of the fourteen Deatheaters on it. "I don't know if you already have this information, but I promised Hermione I would give this to you." Dumbledore read the parchment surprise evident on his face. "Excuse me, Headmaster, Pro. Snape." With that Harry fled.

In the corridor Harry stopped to lean against the wall. That was close. Anymore of that and Dumbledore will know all about me. Harry closed his eyes. He opened them again when he heard someone stop in front of him. It was Pro. Snape. _Fuck, _Harry thought.

"Mr. Potter come with me." The potions master turned and headed down to the dungeons. Harry stalled for a moment wondering what kind of trouble he was in now. He sighed and followed at least three paces behind Snape, just in case he had to brake and run, all the way to the man's office.

Snape shut the door behind them and placed an advanced locking charm on it. "So, Potter," he began. "Dumbledore may believe in your ignorance of Dark Magic, but I know that _that_ type of magic can't be called by 'accident,' as you put it."

"It can if you've had experience calling it." Harry muttered. He looked up at the potions master. "You know what I did."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "You're not even going to try denying it?" He leaned on the edge of his desk and crossed his arms. "For your information, yes, I have seen Void Magic being used before. I lived in a house where Dark Arts were common place. The question is how do you know it?"

Harry pursed his lips. "Would you believe that I have known it for over 120 years?"

The man snorted. "Not likely Potter. I am not a simpleton." Snape narrowed his eyes. "I'm not going to get an answer from you, am I?"

"Not one you're going to believe."

"Don't get cheeky Potter."

"Sorry sir, I'm just used to arguing this way with G... I'll stop now." Harry looked at his hands considering his next words. "Professor, is there any chance that Malfoy does not want to join Voldemort?"

Snape started at the question. "Why would you want to know, Potter? Have you suddenly become friends with Mr. Malfoy?"

Harry shook his head and the professor relaxed. "I was just curious." Snape sat behind his desk and pulled a stack of papers toward him. Taking his queue Harry left.

000000

Draco Malfoy winced again as he landed face down on the mat. He was currently in the middle of his first "lesson." A lesson that, as far a he could see consisted of Potter beating the crap out of him. He lay on the blue mat for a moment contemplating blasting the other boy, but Potter had confiscated his wand when they had entered the room of requirement. Draco was beginning to think this whole thing was a bad idea.

"Aren't you going to get up?" Potter's voice grated on Draco's nerves.

"Aren't you going to teach me anything, or are you just playing with me?"

"A little of both. Come here; I'll show you how to hold your knife properly." Harry walked over to where Draco lying. Draco scrambled to his feet. Harry adjusted Draco's grip and stepped back. "Now come at me."

Draco looked at the brunette dubiously. Harry only nodded. Draco charged him. Harry dodged the knife and grabbed Draco's wrist. "What did you do that for?" The blond yelled.

"In knife fighting it is customary to grab your opponent's knife hand if you can't dodge it. Trying to catch the blade with your own blade is rather... stupid." Draco frowned at him. "Would you want to try to block someone with six inches of steel?" The blond shook his head.

Harry showed Draco the catch again. Then made him repeat it twenty times before he was satisfied.

"Try to attack me again this time block my knife with you're free hand." Draco did so. This time Harry tripped him.

Draco sat on the mat glaring up at Harry. "I thought Gryffindors were honorable fighters and all that."

"Knife fighting isn't an honorable form of battle; it is a survival technique." Harry levered Draco up. "I think we should quit for today it's almost curfew."

Draco nodded. He wouldn't admit it, but he was kind of enjoying his lesson. Except for one thing. "Damn it Potter, I'm all sweaty."

Harry shrugged, "Gives credibility to our story." Draco, who had started to leave, tripped over the edge of the mat. He landed on stone scraping his palms. "Same time tomorrow, and don't forget our little side meeting after potions. We do have to look like were in love." Harry grimaced. He wouldn't be caught dead with Draco, even if he was cute. "We will start off with a little duel next time to see how well you learned to day. Then I'll slow down to your level of learning."

Draco glared at that. "Are you saying I'm stupid Potter?"

Harry sighed. "I'm saying you're out of shape. Maybe we should start with weight training and running too. He looked thoughtful.

Draco, on the other hand looked horrified. "Aristocrats don't run or weight train, whatever that is?"

"You'll see tomorrow."

"The hell I will."

"You will or our deal is off."

"What are you getting out of this anyway? It will be some time before I can fill my part of the bargain." Draco crossed his arms.

Harry shrugged his shoulders trying to look nonchalant. "It has its perks." He broke out in a grin. "I'm having fun, so if you keep up your training I'll help you."

Draco snorted. "How is this going to help me again?"

"Confidence and the ability to protect yourself. It goes a long way."

Draco snorted. "Tomorrow then." With that he left.

Harry stood for a time gazing at the floor. "I am doing this to redeem my house. No matter how difficult you are Draco, you're going to help me."


	9. No Pain No Gain

Draco woke the next morning in a considerable amount of pain. He had crawled into bed after his workout with Harry and spent the night curled up in a ball. This morning he could hardly move; his legs felt like lead and wouldn't uncurl. Draco groaned as the green bed curtains were pulled aside to revel a horrible sight, Crabbe's flat face. "It's almost time for breakfast, Draco," having delivered his message the bulky boy stood there like the idiot he was staring at Draco.

Draco ran the back of his hand across his eyes in a childish manner thankful that his body guard wouldn't remember his actions past breakfast. There were very few blessings to having an idiot for a patsy; this was one of them. "Well then, don't you think you should be getting ready to go," he snapped at the boy. A light bulb seemed to flash dimly over Crabbe's head, and he rushed off. Draco on the other hand only rolled out of bed directly onto the floor. After that he decided that he had put in a full days work and since the floor felt nice and cool, screw breakfast.

Twenty minutes later Draco's pride made him lever himself up and proceed to erase all evidence that he had ever touched the floor from his person. He slowly made his way across to the bathroom and nearly screamed when he looked into the mirror and saw his hair sticking up in several different directions. _ Look just like Potter. I do not need to see that first thing in the morning. _Fifteen minutes after that Draco's hair was perfectly slicked back and ready to take on wind, world, and light to mid-weight falling objects.

A glance at the clock reviled that Draco only had ten minutes to get to class. He threw on some robes and rushed out the door. The Charm's class room was on the fourth floor, a full six floors from where the Slytherin dorms were. Draco ran or rather walked hurriedly all the way; Malfoys never ran anywhere. Stopping one corridor from Charms he cast a straitening charm on his robes to make sure they were up to his standards of neatness.

Class went by in the normal fashion. Professor Flitwick taught them some of the more complex levitation charms for heaver objects, and every time the little man was out of hearing range Draco would make a comment or joke about the Hufflepuffs that shared the class with them. All of his "friends" would laugh, seeking to curry favor with the blond, and wait eagerly for more. It was hard to keep the sallies coming. Draco was actually thankful to the blundering Hufflepuffs forgiving him fresh material.

It angered Draco that his father thought that these useless children of Deatheaters were the proper friends for his son. They were, in Draco's opinion, worthless, stupid, and all around dull. If Draco had any say in whom his friends were this batch would have been dropped a long time ago. Potter on the other hand would have been a friend worth making. Draco sighed and went back to keeping the monkeys entertained.

It wasn't until the end of class that Draco began to worry about his "encounter" with Harry. Any way he looked at it this was going to ruin his reputation, and on an unrelated matter he had to walk back down to the dungeons for his potions class. His only hope was that Snape would keep him entertained for the next hour.

Draco sat at the table he shared with Blaise. The other boy pushed his brown hair out of his eyes and leaned over towards Draco. "You forgot that there was another meeting about the party last night."

"Shit," Draco scowled. "I forgot all about that. I don't think I'll be able to help any more. Put Tanya in charge."

"What, that girl? Who knows what we'll end up with if Tanya decorates." Blaise grabbed Draco's hand in his own. "Please Draco, I don't want to have a party with fuzzy things everywhere or whips and chains." He shook his head, "There is no middle ground with that girl. Besides I would miss you."

Draco rolled his eyes. "You're pathetic. Fine I'll help but only one day a week." Slave-Driver-Potter would have to cut his training down to six days a week. He glanced across the class room where Harry was settling in with his friends. "On Saturdays."

Blaise nodded and seemed about to say more when the class room door slammed open and Snape stormed in. One look at his face and every Slytherin knew that they wouldn't get any slack to day. Draco turned to look at Blaise who shrugged. So much for being entertained. What fun was it to watch Gryffindors get yelled at when you couldn't laugh at it.

Professor Snape strode to the front of the class and gave them all a withering glare. "Turn to page 123 in your books and read over the Inferno potion." He turned on his heel flaring his robes and sat down at his desk. He then proceeded to glare at anyone who dared to make eye contact.

This behavior worried Draco. Even at his worst before Snape always lectured the class. He never trusted them to figure it out on their own. Draco began to take notes out of his book sneaking glances at his head of house. For the most part Snape glared at Potter. _Ah, well, at least it was Potter's fault. _

Class ended, and everyone rushed out the door when Snape's voice rang out. "Mr. Potter, stay after class." Potter sighed and sat back down at his desk waiting for everyone to leave. The rest of the class bolted.

Draco stopped in the corridor. Dropping his bag he leaned against the wall to wait. _Potter better not make me late for class._ Draco didn't know how long he had waited. He only knew that he was pissed when the raven haired boy finally mad an appearance.

"What took so damn long," Draco snapped.

"Dumbledore is making Professor Snape give me privet lessons again. It didn't go too well the first time."

Draco narrowed his eyes and mulled that over. "Well," he looked at his watch. "I have fifteen more minutes before I have to be in class."

"Only fifteen, I thought you had a free period now?"

"I did. You in there for a long time getting your new lesson plans, and I demand retribution."

Harry stared at Draco for a moment nonplussed. "Retribution?"

Draco marched up to Harry looking down on the smaller boy. "You owe me one." He spoke clearly and slowly, enunciating every word.

Harry frowned at him, and then shrugged. "Let's go find a closet." He grabbed Draco's hand and dragged him down the corridor toward the main part of the castle. Draco's only reply was a startled squawk.

Three corridors later Harry pulled open one of the many doors, and tried to shove Draco inside. Draco planted his feet and sent both of them to the floor with Draco on top. He was about to say something scathing to Harry when he heard a startled squeak. Draco turned to see a Hufflepuff girl staring wide eyed, hands over her mouth.

"Scat," Draco yelled at the girl. She took off running pigtails flying out behind her. "Damn it, this will be all overt the school by dinner." He glared at the boy below him. "My reputation is ruined, and it is your fault." He quickly levered himself off of Harry.

"Ya, but this is exactly what we wanted remember?" Harry stood and brushed off his robes. "The only problem I have with this whole affair is that it will be on the front page of the _Daily Prophet_ tomorrow morning." Draco only gaped at him mouth opening and closing like a fish. Harry nodded sagely. "Yep, you're ruined." Draco didn't move. Aren't you going to be late for class?"

The news did indeed spread like wildfire through the school. Draco sat between his oblivious bodyguards. He had never been thankful for their presence, but right now he was willing to claim them as his best friends. No one came between Crabbe, Goyle and their food without loosing a limb, which is exactly where someone would have to get to talk to Draco right now.

Draco's only problem were the two people sitting across from him. Pansy was still in a state of shock. She talked nonstop about the most inane things Draco had ever heard. She even started asking him about his relationship with Harry. Blaise on the other hand wasn't taking the situation at all well. He kept grinding his baked potato until it was mashed and the hamburger patty looked like it would soon follow. He never took his eyes off of Draco all through Dinner.

It was disquieting to say the least. Draco knew that Blaise liked him in a backward Slytherin way, but this jealousy was something else again. He never believed that the small boy was serious about wanting to be with him, not this serious anyway.

Draco hazarded a glance at Blaise, who stared right back brown eyes flashing something remarkably like hatred. _He's going to kill me. No Potter, he's defiantly going to kill Potter. _ Draco felt better about the assertion until he looked at Blaise again. _He is only going to maim me._

Later after getting beaten around again by Harry, Draco brought the situation up to the brunette.

Harry only stood there stupidly. "Really?"

"Yes, really you idiot, so if you don't want to be the butt of some prank or more likely dead, watch your back."

"Awww. Draco, I didn't know you cared."

"Shut up."

Harry sat down on the bench next to Draco and leaned back against the wall. "Okay, you don't care."

"Exactly, but I do have a demand."

"Oh."

"I want Saturdays off."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

"Prior engagement."

"What kind of prior engagement?"

Draco looked over at Harry. "I'm helping-"

"Helping, you?"

"Didn't I tell you to shut up?" Harry didn't answer, just looked at Draco expectantly. "Anyway," Draco continued. "I'm planning a party for this Halloween. I need the time to meet with my house mates and prepare. Understand?"

"There's no need to be rude." Harry said, and then shrugged. "Sure I understand. Am I invited?"

"Of course not." Draco paused thinking. "But you did say that I had to get you into the Slytherin dorms some how. I could let you in while the party is going on."

Harry's eyes got real big. "You mean your going to take me home with you?"

"Don't do that," Draco said leaning back. "It does mean that I've filled my part of our bargain though."

"Yes it does."

"So how exactly are you helping me again?"

"It might not seem like much now," Harry answered, "But in another two weeks I'm going to start teaching you how to do some interesting spells along with knife fighting. In short I'm teaching you how to protect yourself. If you ever thought that going against your father would end in anything but a fight you are more hopeful than a Hufflepuff."

"Don't insult me." But Draco knew it to be the truth. One day soon he would have to kill his father. And he was going to enjoy every minute of it.


	10. The Disturbing and the Disturbed

The Disturbing and the Disturbed

Harry came down for breakfast the next morning to find Ron staring into space. He sat down across from his friend and waved his hand in front of the red head's face, no reaction. Harry frowned. Why would Ron be acting like this? It wouldn't be the rumors of Harry and Draco flying around the school. Harry had explained the whole incident as a fight, which wasn't far from what had really happened. Harry shrugged and began to fill up his plate. He could wait Ron out and then ask him what was going on.

A few minutes later Hermione came in and sat down next to Ron. She waved her hand in front of the red-head's face. "Any ideas?" Harry asked her. Hermione bit her lip and shook her head.

As she did so, Harry's head started tingling. It felt as if insects were crawling around in the back of his head. He sat fork poised in mid air, and he blinked a couple of times trying to get rid of the uncomfortable sensation.

"Are you alright, Harry Hermione asked him.

"I think so. I just feel weird."

"Maybe you should go see Madam Pomphry."

"No." Hermione opened her mouth again. "I said no. Just give me a minute; it is already fading." Harry massaged his temples. He glanced up at Ron to see the other boy looking at him worriedly. "Oh, you are alive."

"Hey no need to be rude. I was just remembering… Oww" Hermione cut him short with a swift kick in the shin. "That hurt, 'Mione." He bent down to rub his abused shin.

"Well, you shouldn't go around school blabbing about such things. Look at what it did to Harry."

Now Harry was confused. _What about me? _

"Huh…" Ron grunted.

Hermione sighed in exasperation. "The whole incident yesterday. I have heard everything from Harry becoming a Death Eater to Draco turning over a new leaf. On first year even concocted a story about personality switches and You-Know Who in a Minnie skirt." Both Harry and Ron turned green at the mention of Voldemort in a Minnie skirt. Harry shuddered as his over active imagination pictured the pallid rail- thin snake in a micro Minnie.

"Hermione, if you insist on torturing us please be tasteful enough to use whips and chains, not Voldemort in a Minnie skirt, please."

"Harry you have faced You-Know –Who how many times now?" Harry began to add them up on his fingers. Hermione continued, "Such a small thing shouldn't scare you."

"But it does."

"It scares me too, 'Mione."

Hermione rolled her eyes at the ceiling, "Boys." She glanced at her watch. "Anyway, I need to get to the library before class. Professor McGonagall is starting animagus theory today and I want to read up on it." She ran off slinging her book bag over her shoulder.

Ron turned towards Harry, "How does she know what we are studying before we study it?" He asked.

"She probably listens to the teacher talk about the next lesson at the end of class." Harry said.

"Really?" Ron frowned. "And how would you know this?" He watched Harry chew his lip. "Because I know that at the end of class you are usually trying to come up with a method to sweep all of the books on your desk into your book bag all at once."

Harry smiled at his friend. "I did used to teach here, Ron, and I'll tell you now that all the things kids try to get away with in class, they really don't. The teacher just doesn't want to deal with it."

Ron started. "Oh, yeah. I forgot." He glanced sheepishly at his friend.

Harry on the other hand practically beamed. "That's great. I was starting to worry that you would treat me differently, but you're not and that's good…"

Ron put his hand on his hyperactive friend's shoulder to stop the babbling. "Calm down. Breath." After a few deep breaths Ron said, "You don't exactly act like Slytherin. I just don't see it." Harry looked at his friend with wonder. Ron continued. "At first I thought you were stuck up, but not anymore. You joke, laugh, pull off pranks that make the Weasely twins green with envy. Believe me I have the picture to prove it."

"So you would expect me to act like Malfoy, or Crabbe maybe?" Harry said in a threatening tone.

"Like Crabbe, no, but all the histories say…" Ron trailed off as Harry turned bright red with anger.

"I am nothing like those books say." Harry grated out.

"Okay, okay, sorry." Ron quickly changed tactics. "So, what about you and the thing with Malfoy?"

Harry sighed. "I'm only using him." Ron spit out his orange juice. "Not like that. Pervert."

Ron grabbed a napkin and brushed the orange juice off his robes. "What do you expect me to think; you've been disappearing with him all week."

Harry huffed. "There is no talking to you is there." He said as he stood up. "I'm going to class. See ya." He waved over his shoulder without looking back.

He checked his watch. There was still thirty minutes before he had to be in transfiguration, so he went out side to sit by the lake.

It was a beautiful day out. The morning sun shown down turning the calm lake into a mirror of gold. Harry found a seat under on of the larger, less dangerous trees over looking the lake and sat down cross-legged, hands hanging limply in his lap. He had to rethink what he was doing. Was it a good idea to use Draco like this? The blonde's only redeeming feature was his hatred of Voldemort. He still believed in everything that the old snake stood for. What Salazar Slytherin supposedly stood for.

Harry had known over a thousand years ago that destroying that one village would haunt him for the rest of his life as Slytherin. He hadn't realized that it would be as far reaching as this. One mistake, He had lost his temper one time and was known as a muggle hater ever since. It didn't matter that Salazar had been six at the time or that what happened had been completely out of his control. It didn't even matter that those greedy, hateful bastards had deserved what they got. He remembered so clearly. It had been a fall day much like this one…

_Salazar had skipped out on his morning chores again. He was hunting the "dragon" that had been rumored to be in the woods. He knew that it was only a story but still held to the fact that it was a big snake. Salazar wanted to make friends with it. He spent the whole morning searching for the blasted thing. All he did find was the regurgitated remains of small forest animals. _

_Around lunch time his stomach started to growl at him, so he trudged home in defeat, hungry and in trouble. Mother had a bad habit of smacking him on the back of the head when he misbehaved, and the lecture he would get for running out on her this morning, Salazar winced at the thought. _

_When the small boy reached the cottage, where he lived with his mother on the edge of the village, he called out hesitantly to announce his arrival. There was no answer. Salazar frowned. He had expected his mother to come storming out the kitchen door waving her stirring spoon and promising to stop feeding him until all of his chores were done. "Mother," he called again. Still no answer. _

_Swallowing the urge to scream. Salazar walked up to the kitchen door and swung it open. Now he knew something was definitely wrong. The wood stove was cold, and the breakfast dishes were still on the shabby table. He ran through the small cottage, then out to the garden. _

"_Mommy!" Salazar called out in desperation. It had been years since he had uttered the word 'mommy.' _

"_Shut up, you little brat," one of the village women yelled at him as she hurried toward the village green. While the comment was normal, most of the villagers ignored his existence when he wasn't in trouble; he was a bastard after all and there for did not exist in their perfect world, the woman seemed to be in too much of a hurry to only be visiting._

_Salazar figured that something must be going on and that was where he would find his mother. He made his way to the village green his feeling of foreboding increasing with every step. As he got closer he noticed a sickening, burning smell, and started to her snippets of conversation. The local priest seemed to have caught a witch living in their peaceful village. One of them, a particularly cruel old man, was reassuring his sheep that the danger had passed; there was nothing left to fear now that the devil worshiper had been taken care of. _

_Salazar, as usual, walked through the crowd unnoticed. He made his way to the center of the green still looking for his mother. The burning smell was stronger here, and seemed to be coming from the blackened pile of burnt wood. Men stood in small groups talking solemnly. "She got what she deserved." Old McLain said to a group of farmers._

_It wasn't until Salazar had walked around to the other side of the chard pole that he saw the body tied to the post. He backed away from the charred remains in horror. He looked around in desperation for his mother, but noticed that she was the only one absent from the crowed. _

_Salazar turned back to the thing. There was nothing left to identify the remains, but for the hunk of semi-melted silver lying in the ashes. It was the hair clip his mother always wore. The bird of paradise that adorned the clip was grossly deformed. _

_Salazar dropped to his knees hot tears filling his eyes. He reached out and grabbed the clip, hugging it to his chest. The tears that rolled down his face fell to the ground and ignited the grass. He could feel the heat inside him threatening to burn. _

_People backed away from the boy as his violet eyes began to glow. _

_Salazar saw red, felt heat. Though the heat never seemed to touch him…_

Harry remembered waking up later to find the village in ashes wondering what the hell had happened. His mother certainly hadn't been a witch, and he had had no idea that he was a wizard. Harry sighed. He still didn't know which was worse: knowing your mother then losing her or not knowing her at all.

The splat of a mud ball brought Harry back to the world. He heard Draco and his cronies laughing. His eyes narrowed as he cast a quick cleaning spell on himself. _Son of a bitch is going to die. Slowly, painfully.... _Harry walked calmly over to his rival turned ally. "I will see you after dinner," with that he turned and headed for class, smiling broadly at the gulping sound behind him. He looked at his watch. Ten minutes till class. "Damn I'm good." He said to himself bounding up the stairs.

He slipped into a seat between Ron and Hermione just as McGonagall entered the room. She walked to the front of the room and turned to address the class. "Now, as you know we have been studying human transformation for the past month." The class let out a low groan. Human transfiguration was decidedly not the easiest subject covered. "Today we will be shifting gears a bit to study animagus transformation." The class perked up at that as it was a common belief that, in the words of Lavender Brown, "being an animagus would be totally cool."

Of course Professor McGonagall had to burst that bubble too. "It should be noted that we will not go over the actual procedure of transforming into an animal only the theory. Anyone caught attempting an animagus transformation will be expelled."

Well, this promises to be another fun month." Ron muttered on Harry's right.

"Yes indeed," Hermione gushed from the other side of him, completely missing the sarcasm. "I find this subject simply fascinating. In the library there are over a hundred books on what can go wrong in a transformation."

"Huh, hopefully we'll spend most of our time on that. Talking about the possibility of growing gills sounds like fun."

Harry's eyes kept bouncing back and forth between his friends. _Mother Night, they are just like Godric and Rowena._ Always arguing, back and forth, back and forth until either he or Helga snapped.

Hermione looked at Ron in disgust. "I don't believe you Ronald."

"Don't call me Ronald."

"Mr. Weasly, Ms. Granger do I need to separate…" McGonagall turned to see Harry already sitting between them.

"Yes please," He answered for his two friends. Ron and Hermione stared at him in shock.

McGonagall sighed and went back to her lecture. "Today we will talk about the mechanics of casting transformation magic on yourself…" The class groaned once more.

Harry sat taking notes on autopilot. It would be more fun to learn how to be an animagus on the side. Thanks to Salazar he had a virtual library on the subject in the back of his head. Rowena had had a fascination with the subject. But Salazar had never become an animagus himself.

Harry on the other hand had every intention of following in his fathers footsteps. Now if he remembered correctly there was a book on animagus transformation in the restricted section, fourth case from the back third shelf down buried between a couple of scrolls that in Salazar's opinion could double as fire fuel.

Being the Hogwarts assistant librarian had its perks. Even if his job was mostly sifting through Rowena's rooms for books she refused to return. The woman had seemed to think that the students would more likely use the books as toilet paper as opposed to reading them.

Harry made it through the rest of his classes alright and had spent dinner alternately arguing with Ron about raiding the library for the book and shooting death glares at Draco.

Right now he was practicing anger management in the form of throwing fireballs at said blond dragon, for the past two hours. Harry noted that Draco had gotten really good at dodging.

Ron thought it was wrong to steal free books for some reason and that left Harry without a partner in crime. He sent a shock spell at Draco out of pure frustration.

"Owww." Draco screamed. Harry made a point to tone down the amount of energy he put into his spells. It wouldn't do him any good to kill the kid. "What the hell was all that?" Draco screamed at him.

Harry looked at Draco's flushed face and singed robes. He was holding up pretty well; Harry decided. It had only taken him three curses before he found a shield spell that would block the fire. "Basic battle magic."

"You could have warned me that we were going to use magic this time!"

"I'm still mad at you for this morning, on top of which I'm peeved at Ron."

"So, that doesn't make it alright to try to kill me. I don't know any of those spells. It's completely unfair…"

"You giving me a lecture on fairness? That's rich."

Draco deflated at the comment. "Well… uh…," then he snapped out. "Are you going to teach me the spells or not."

Harry sighed. "Okay, the first one is a simple fire spell…"

"Simple? It nearly killed me."

"Any first year could learn it."

"The why don't I know it."

Harry deadpanned. "Any number of reasons. I can think of fifty or so off the top of my head, and before you ask I learned it on accident." Draco shut his mouth from the rant position.

"The spell is _attono_, it is the first of many fire spells of different degrees. It is used most often in battle because it is easy to use and is less likely to burn down a building than the other fire spells." Harry scratched the back of his head not quite believing that he had just slipped into lecture mode.

"Just point your wand and say _attono_, or if you can do wandless magic use the palm of your hand."

Draco nodded and pointed his wand at Harry, who gave him a you've-got-to-be-kidding-me look. Harry waved his hand at the target that had appeared in the middle of the room. "Practice on that."

Draco stomped in front of the dummy and pointed his wand at it. "_Attono_," he yelled. Nothing happened. Draco had turned around to yell at Harry when the dummy exploded into flame. Draco was stunned by the explosion; he thought they were going to die, but the flame just went out.

"And that's why we learn that spell first." Draco looked at Harry who stood with arms crossed staring at the charred dummy. "The spell only burns for a short time no matter what kind of fuel it has. Very convenient if I do say so myself. By the way the amount of force you put in the spell determines how big the fire is."

"Thanks," Draco spat. "What about the delay?"

Harry shrugged. "Fire is a fickle element. Practice."

After practicing _attono _for an hour, he finally asked Harry, "Do you think I could do this without a wand?"

"Sure." Draco turned back to the new dummy the room had supplied. "Just remember to push the spell away from your body. Draco winced at the words, but held his palm flat facing the dummy. The spell warmed his hand briefly before spiraling out and consuming the dummy in a cloud of fire.

"Cool."

"Thought you would like that."

"Shut up. Since I go that we can move on to the other spell you used."

Harry looked at his watch. "It's getting late. We should continue tomorrow."

"Potter, what was the spell?" Draco growled.

Harry sighed. "It's called _deflaratio_. I'll teach it to you tomorrow after your workout."

Draco squawked at the indignity. "And if I decide to do it anyway."

Harry strode to the door. "Go ahead, but I'm not going to be here to drag your crispy ass to the hospital wing." He shut the door behind him leaving Draco, in all his singed glory, shaking with impotent anger in the middle of the room.

Finally! Sorry it took me so long to update, but I thought it was worth it in the end. This is one of the better chapters I've written for this story. Thank you all for waiting so long and the amazing lack of death threats. I plan to go back to updating regularly again.

Peace

Oh! I've also reached 100 reviews. 100! I thought it would never happen. (Jumps up and down) Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and keep 'em comin'


	11. Simplicity

Simplicity

Later that night Harry snuck out of the Gryffindor dorm under his invisibility cloak. He used an audio spell to increase his hearing ability. He should be able to hear footsteps from two halls away. A vague memory popped up in the back of his mind, and he found himself praying to the Darkness that there weren't going to be any loud noises on this escapade.

He made his way toward the library, trying to make as little noise as possible, cursing himself for not thinking of a silencing spell sooner. He couldn't risk it now in the hall; Harry had checked the marauder's map before exiting the dorm, and it showed Professor Snape prowling the halls in Gryffindor territory. If he didn't know better he would have thought that Snape was expecting him, or another Gryffindor, but most likely him, to sneak out tonight.

But Harry knew that it was only Snape's regular routine that he had been watching on the map for three years now. The man swept up from the dungeons, through the Ravenclaw halls then to the East wing where the Hufflepuffs were housed then the halls outside Gryffindor tower, but never in the dungeons where he may catch those of his own house.

Harry snorted out loud. The man was so predictable, and biased. He pulled the map out. Snape was just leaving the Ravenclaw territory. If he was lucky he could make it to the library without having to deal with the man at all. He shoved the map back into his robes, and broke into a sprint toward the nearest stair case.

The library was two floors down and across the Stair Tower; at least that was what it was called in Salazar's time. The stairs themselves were not cooperating with him. They had shifted in such a way that it would take him an extra fifteen minutes he didn't have to get to the library.

Harry sighed and knelt and put his hand on the banister of the stairs. _Come on girl,_ Salazar had always thought of the castle as female, though Harry himself thought it rather odd, _I need some help here. _He pictured where he wanted to go in his mind.

To his surprise it actually worked. The stairs shuddered and shifted to give him the shortest path to the library. He shifted through his memories again and was shocked at what he was supposed to say next. "T-thanks sweety." He stammered out. The castle itself seemed to thrum with pleasure under his feet and an amorphous half thought bloomed in the back of his mind. It seemed the castle was happy that he was paying attention to it again.

Harry didn't have time to contemplate the fact that the castle was sentient being before he heard voices above him. He looked up to see two prefects turn into a hall across from him. Without another thought, he darted down the two flights of stairs and down the hall the library doors.

He slipped through the doors breathing a sigh of relief. The room was dark. Only the tall windows on the fall wall casting pale light from the moon, outlining the far shelves. Harry strode confidently to the locked gate beyond which rested the restricted section. A quick _alohamora_ later he was inside.

The shelves were more cramped in this section of the library. The portion of the room set off for restricted books did not grow with the number of books that had become off limits to the students. In the back, where the older books were kept there was barley enough room to clear Harry's shoulders. He wondered, not for the first time how his father had managed to even find the book he needed to become an animagus. The marauders had probably found that to be the hardest part of the process.

He reached the transfiguration section he was looking for and started to scan the shelves. There it was, shoved between two bulky manuscripts. Harry reached up and pulled out the thin book. It was more like a pamphlet, really, less than fifty pages. The only reason Salazar had known about it was that the militant librarian they had hired had made him reshelf this whole section after a little fiasco involving Helga, a snake and lots of explosions. Though it wasn't his fault the snake had followed him into the castle.

Harry flipped quickly through the pamphlet a small frown on his face. It may not be that big, but it sure was a lot of reading. Each page was cramped with tiny writing. He sighed. It was too late to turn back now. He had already done enough to get expelled. He stuffed the pamphlet into a robe pocket and consulted his map again.

Snape was now prowling the Gryffindor corridors. Harry would have to wait for him to make his way back down stairs. Unless… he walked over to the nearest wall. "Umm… castle? I kinda need your help one more time." The presence of the castle filled his head. He could sense its curiosity. "You know Professor Snape, right?" The castle gave him an affirmative. "Well," Harry rubbed the side of his head. Even with no one watching this was embarrassing and he didn't even know how to make the castle do what he wanted.

A memory poked its head out of his subconscious. The castle _liked_ playing ticks on people. That is why there were so many tick stairs and doors that don't go anywhere; the castle did all that on its own without any prompting. "I don't really want to be caught out after curfew by him." Harry told the castle. "So, could you keep him going in circles away from me and the Gryffindor tower?

He could swear the castle was laughing, but he got an affirmative, and since he was still connected with the castle felt the corridors that Snape was in shift into what could only be described as a gerbil run. "Thanks again, you darling thing." Harry said with real feeling. The castle preened at his complement.

Harry could barely control his laughter during the mad dash back to the tower. He choked out the pass word to the fat lady and immediately collapsed inside the portal, his laughter filling the room.

"What's so funny?" Harry looked up from his prone position on the floor to see Ron standing above him.

"Ron," Harry exclaimed.

"What's so funny?" His best friend repeated. He went on not waiting for an answer. "You stole the book didn't you?"

Harry levered himself back onto his feet. "Yes, 'Mione, I stole the book."

Ron scowled. "You're lucky I don't wake her up. She would not be happy to hear about this. She may even tell McGonagall on you."

"Is that a threat?" Harry asked in as deep and dark a voice he could muster (his voice cracked).

"Of course not, but Harry…" Ron trailed off at the look in Harry's eyes. "Can I see it?"

Harry blinked at the sudden change in subject. "Why would I do that, you just threatened to sick Hermione on me?"

Ron turned to the stairs leading up to the girl's dorm. "It's not as if I don't want to become an animagus with you. It's that… well…"

"Hermione has you on a short leash." Harry finished for him. Ron blushed and nodded his head. "Come on Ron, she can't be that good a kisser."

"What!"

"That's what you two were doing this morning, right?"

"Um… yes, but ya know…" Ron answered turning bright red.

"Not really," Harry gave his friend a considering look. "So you really want to be an animagus too?"

"Yes, of course," Ron blurted out. He cast another long look up the stairs. "We just can't have Hermione finding out."

"Agreed." Harry pulled out the pamphlet.

"That's it?"

"Surprised?"

Ron scratched his head. "Ya, I am. And a little disappointed. It looks like one of those muggle travel things, with all the pictures."

"Ya, it does." Harry turned to the first page. "Look it even starts off with the words: So you've decided to become an animagus." Harry and Ron just stared at each other.

qqqqq

Two hours latter the boys sat back on the couch with the pamphlet on the table in front of them. Ron rubbed his itchy eyes; staring at words for long periods of time wasn't for him. "What kind of crackpot wrote this thing? Are you even sure this is for real?"

"Genius Ron, we prefer the term genius." Harry smiled at his friend's snort. "This book was actually written by a man who traveled the world looking for the best method for becoming an animagus. These are his notes. And don't say you didn't enjoy it; I saw you read it all the way through."

"It's not natural."

"What?" Harry was nonplussed. Why would Ron be here if he thought animagi were unnatural?

"What is practically a textbook being interesting and even funny, very unnatural. I mean 'The nomadic tribes of the eastern desert seem to think that one can only become an animagus after drinking twelve gallons of wine, but I think it runs more along the lines of an excuse to get drunk, then chicken out of the actual process. Though no one seems to mind, or in fact, remember the events that went on the night before… "

"You _memorized_ part of it?"

Ron let out a low dramatic moan. "It is an abomination, unnatural and unhealthy. I am becoming, gasp, Hermione." He fell off the couch in mock horror.

Harry rubbed his temple. "Ron, you hurt my head."

"Well, someone has to; you've gotten too smart for Hermione." Ron said with a smile. "So ready to try it?" He bounced back up on the couch like a hyperactive child.

"No, no, no, no," Harry repeated over and over again, shaking his head. "I'm beat. If I tried right now I really would end up with gills."

Ron stopped bouncing and fell back against the couch. "I was hoping you would say that. We have four hours before we have to get up and go to class."

"What about breakfast?" Harry asked yawning.

"Screw breakfast; I'm going to be a walking zombie anyway. Zombies don't need food." Ron turned to Harry, who was already curled up in a ball, fast asleep. Ron nudged him. Then nudged him again, and again. Finally he slapped Harry on top of his head. There was no response. "Well, I'm going to bed." He said loudly. "And I'm taking the book with me." He said in a quieter tone casting furtive looks at the girl's dorm.

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Harry was jolted awake by a feeling of great animosity. To his sleepy mind it seemed that Voldemort was leaning over him, but when he opened his eyes he found something much worse. Hermione herself was glaring down at him, hands on hips.

"And just why are you down here mister?"

Harry rubbed his eyes and gave her his best kitten look. It was too early with too little sleep for him to have to deal with her now. He wondered when she had become such a pain to be around; he almost preferred Draco. "I couldn't sleep. My mind was going crazy." _Crazy like a certain book,_ he added in his head. He looked around to see various Gryffindors heading down to breakfast. "Must have fallen asleep."

"Well," Hermione said in a superior tone. "Go get Ron and come down for breakfast."

"Yes, ma'm." Harry quickly made his way up the stairs before he hit her. She was getting really annoying. It was as if she were trying to pretend that she wasn't afraid of him. Tears filled his eyes as he realized that he had indeed lost one of his dear friends. He stopped on the landing to the room he shared with the other sixth years. When he could control himself he pushed the door open and walked over to Ron's bed. Harry bopped his friend on the head and got the standard: "Five more minutes."

"You'd better get up; the She-Dragon wants us down stairs pronto."

Ron lifted his face from his pillow, "Ya miin 'Mionee?" He slurred. "Wha haphen?"

Harry sat on the edge of the bed. "Well, if I understand the question, Hermione is being quite antagonistic toward me?"

"Antago…?"

Harry sighed; Ron was useless without at least eight hours sleep. "She's being mean to me, and I think she suspects what I did."

"Tha naw goo'."

"No, its not." Harry stood up. "Come on zombie boy time for breakfast."

"Scew brefas."

"'Mione said."

Long pause, "Fam i'."

Harry, taking pity on Ron, did the only thing a good friend could do and gave the boy a helpful shove off the bed, onto the floor. Ron landed with a loud plop on the thick carpet. He groaned, but levered himself up and stumbled into the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, Ron had his arm draped around Harry's shoulders. They stumbled down the stairs to where Hermione was waiting. When she saw Ron she shook her head. "Honestly, you two." She glared at Harry. "What's wrong with him?"

"Not enough sleep, I suppose." Harry replied nonchalantly. Stumbling forward under Ron's weight. He made it to the portrait before Hermione caught up to him. He ignored her as he lugged Ron's slack body to the opening and chewed his lip considered the half foot step up you had to take to get out of the dorms. Shrugging he shoved Ron head first through the portal making sure his head didn't crack on the hard stone floor, then picked up his feet to drag the comatose boy out.

Harry knew that he could solve this predicament easily with a simple levitation charm, but dragging his friend around gave him an excuse no to talk to Hermione. In fact, the plan worked better than he thought it would. Hermione snorted in disgust and stormed by the two of them without looking back.

Harry looked down at Ron and cast a reviver spell on him. It was a spell usually reserved for hangovers, so he figured that it would be strong enough to keep Ron awake for a few hours.

Ron sneezed as the spell washed over him. Slowly his eyes began to focus, he looked around in puzzlement. "How did I get out here," he asked.

"I dragged you out here."

Ron's jaw dropped. "Well…um thanks, I think." He looked up and down the hall way. "Where did Hermione go?"

"She got thoroughly disgusted and stormed off."

"Why would she do that?" Harry couldn't believe he actually sounded puzzled.

"Because I was dragging your corpse down to breakfast."

Ron winced. "Harry, I know you have to tell the truth and all, but couldn't you kinda soften it a little?"

"Not this early in the morning. Come on Let's eat."

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Breakfast was not the enjoyable meal Harry would have preferred. With everything that had been going on lately he only wanted to sit in peace and actually eat before having to go to class. He had hardly sat down before Draco stormed over and slammed the _Daily Prophet_ on the table in front of him.

"Look at this," he hissed through clenched teeth. "My reputation is ruined because of you. Not only that but I got a very angry letter from my father this morning. I will reiterate; I really hate you."

Harry looked at the paper. On the cover were separate pictures of him and Draco with a Headline that read "Boy Who Lived Gay?" He looked back up at Draco. "We knew that this would happen. Truthfully, I'm surprised that it took them so long to print this. Usually they can hardly wait a day to print some falsehood or another about me. More importantly, how did your father react and what did you tell him?"

"I never said that I told him anything."

Harry tsked. "You didn't have to say. He started to load up his plate. "Well?"

"I told him the truth," Draco grated out. "We were fighting; you in you boorish way got physical like a dirty muggle, and a stupid third year Hufflepuff with excess hair for brains mistook our intentions."

Ron, who had been watching the exchange with horror and a mild fascination, finally spoke up. "You mean you two are actually talking to each other?"

Draco turned to Ron and looked him up and down, and then he turned to address Harry. "Is it just me or have the Weasel's intuitive skills improved?" Ron turned red with rage.

"Not now Draco, I've had a long night; I'm not sure I can be polite." Harry told the blond, "And apologize to Ron."

"I'm not going to apologize to the Weasel," Draco said in his haughtiest voice.

Harry pursed his lips; he was fast loosing his appetite. "Then go away, because people are staring." He had hardly finished his sentence before Draco turned on his heel and strode away. Harry giggled. "Just like taming a wild animal."

Ron stared at Harry. "So, you don't trust him?"

"No," Harry said with a snort. "He will stab me in the back as soon as he gets the chance."

"Then why…"

"It's fun, and, of course…" Harry stopped as Snape came storming in through the side door by the teacher's table. He cast a glare around the room that could be tracked by the waves of cringing students it left in its wake. Harry also ducked down with the other students, but it was only to laugh.

Snape must have been trapped in that maze all night. His smile broadened as he gave the castle a mental "pat on the back." The whole room brightened, and Harry dug into his breakfast with gusto.

"Why are you smiling?" Ron asked.

Harry looked down the table a little ways where Hermione sat with her nose in a book. He shook his head and motioned Ron closer. Some things just had to be shared no matter who was listening.


	12. And So On

The week leading up to Halloween was surprisingly uneventful for a week in the life of Harry Potter. No one tried to kidnap him; nothing blew up in potions, which had been rather quiet since he had started training Draco. In fact the blond boy was too busy preening to pay attention to his "inferiors." All of the Slytherins had been commenting on how good he looked lately. Harry put up with all of it because it meant that Draco complained less when he made him run.

Other than the physical benefits of moving regularly Draco was experiencing a steady rise in magical strength and ability. Harry was shocked to find out that Draco was actually _working, as in practicing,_ at it and could now do simple first year spells without a wand. Draco was surprising him, and that was unnerving. On the other hand some kind of pseudo-bond had formed between the two of them. Harry likened it to the student teacher bonds he had had as Salazar; Draco called it the flue.

Harry's relationship with Ron improved over the week. Their animagus training had gotten through the learning to meditate stage, and they were now trying to manifest physical proof of their animal forms. As expected, this is where they hit a brick wall. In order to change into an animal one had to be able to picture in their mind the complete anatomy of the animal in detail, including the heart and nerves and other internal organs. Ron didn't know enough about the anatomy of a lion to change. Harry didn't even know what his animal was, or even if it was an animal for that matter.

The picture in his mind was still mostly a human form with tufty ears, long claws, hairy forearms and two tails. The last was very troubling; both went all the way to the floor and seemed to have a mind or two of their own. When he reproduced the image for Ron, the all the red head had to say was "Fluffy", and indeed the tails were bushy. That was as far as Harry was willing to go, and there was no way in hell they looked "cute."

Stranger still was Ron started to come to Draco's training sessions, and even wanted to participate.

"I refuse to work with the weasel!" Draco shouted at the top of his lungs for the fifth time. "It's not right, why should a mudblood loving low life be able to train with his betters?"

Harry closed his eyes and grimaced. "He stays or the deal is off."

"What? You can't do that to me."

"The hell I can't!" Harry took a deep breath. "Look, it is only practical that you have someone else to fight. Not every one is going to fight like me; you need to get more experience, and Ron has to learn. I want him to be able to protect himself. So damn it, get to work warming up while I teach Ron the basics. End of discussion."

Twenty minutes later Draco found the up side to sparing with Ron. He couldn't get near Harry if he fought at his true level, but Ron he could put on the floor in a matter of seconds, which he did repeatedly. Harry spent the next half hour against the wall observing his students with his sleeve shoved half way down his throat to keep from laughing. Then he took pity on his poor friend and made Draco run laps while he corrected Ron's stance. It went over _real_ well: Ron laughed, Draco scowled, and Harry wanted to scream.

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Harry strode through the halls at a fast clip. Tonight was supposed to be his first meeting with Snape. He wondered briefly how he was going to handle Occulmancy lessons. He couldn't let Snape see his new, old memories; he didn't want to explain himself to the morose man. The very thought of dealing with Snape made his stomach turn. It was the perfect end to a perfect week or Ron and Draco taunting each other until Harry got pissed and let them beat the shit out of each other and, or beating the shit out of both of them at once himself.

Then again maybe he should tell Snape everything. If he did it was sure to get back around to Voldemort; Harry had been having problems formulating a plan to confront Voldemort while spending the better part of his time either in class or doing homework, not to mention Hermione had been breathing down his neck for the past few days. It took some spectacular manipulation to get rid of the girl.

Harry also knew that she had been feeding information to Dumbledore. It would make his job easier if everyone knew who he was. The only problem was that he didn't want to go into hiding again. Harry hated prejudice, for s many deep and personal reasons.

Harry stopped in hall and shook his head. He was getting way off track. How to get at Voldemort that is what he should be thinking about, Harry did not want to confront the slime ball as himself. The Boy Who Lived wasn't known for his dark side, and any meeting Harry had with Voldemort would be a meeting of two Dark Lords and the struggle for dominance.

Harry walked into Slytherin territory too caught up in his circular thought patterns to notice the world around him. So engrossed was he that it was amazing that he was still on the path to Snape's office and not wandering aimlessly around the dungeons. Thus he missed the thin sheen he would have otherwise seen in the flickering torch light.

The wire that had been laid across the hall snapped into action as Harry stepped over it. The magical weapon, commonly used in assinations, wound itself around Harry's neck and began to constrict, cutting into the skin and cutting off air. Harry barely managed to get his fingers between the wire and his neck to give himself some breathing room, but that wouldn't last long. The wire was meant to continue squeezing until the victim's head separated from his body, and it didn't tire.

Harry pulled on the wire letting it cut his fingers all the way to the bone. He gritted his teeth and reached for his wand with his other hand. He would only have one chance.

Suddenly, Harry found himself on the floor. He looked down at his feet where the end of the wire was wound and cursed. The damn thing was longer than he originally thought. Harry gasped for air as spots began to spark at the corner of his eyes. He wouldn't last much longer at this rate.

"Incidio," Harry let go of the wire in shock. It immediately turned to ash and rained harmlessly down onto the floor. Snape's deep voice was actually a welcome sound. Harry lay gasping on the hard stone floor feeling his neck to access the damage. "Well, at least you have a good reason to be late," Snape said in a superior tone. "Tell me Potter how did you ever manage to survive meeting the Dark Lord if you can't handle a child's prank?"

Harry growled despite the pain in the throat. "Don't ever call that refuse the Dark Lord. He won't live long enough to fulfill that title if I have anything to say about it."

Snape stared down at the teen with an unreadable look on his face. "I see," he said. "Come, I have a potion that will heal your wounds." He turned on his heel and strode down the hall back to his office not waiting for Harry to get to his feet.

Harry rose slowly, blood dribbling onto the floor. The man was impossible. If it weren't for the fact that Snape was what Slytherin House needed at this point he would be in the hospital wing for the next three months. Harry limped his way to Snape's office muttering under his breath the whole time. He stopped in the door when he saw Snape sitting at his desk grading papers as if nothing had happened. Harry was not amused.

"What did you mean by a child's prank?" He asked without preamble.

Snape looked up with a frown on his face. "Did you Aunt and Uncle not teach you any respect?" He sighed. "Blaise is angry with you for some reason or another."

"What? Why would… Who is Blaise?" Harry could remember hearing the name before, but for the life of him could not picture the boy. "I take it that this is his normal form of retaliation." He walked over to Snape's Desk and sat in one of the uncomfortable, strait backed chairs that sat before it. "Why would he be angry at me."

Snape pursed his lips. "It's about Draco." Harry waited for the man to elaborate, but Snape was obviously finished with the explanation.

Then it hit him. "No, that can't be it." Snape only snorted in reply. "Blaise has a crush on Draco. Ha ha… ow." Harry reached up and rubbed his throat, which in retrospect was not a good idea.

"Here drink this before you kill yourself." Snape handed him a small vile that was sitting next to his ink well. Harry took the vile and brought it to his lips, then stopped. "It's not going to kill you."

"I know that; I was just wondering if it was the ink well." Snape glared. Harry gave him a small smile and downed the contents of the vile. He coughed, _why do all the healing draughts have to taste like sludge._ But he could feel the skin on his throat and hand healing. "Kinda wish it was."

"I'll remember that." Snape took down took down a pensive and started to put his memories into it. "I thought it was obvious the first time, but we both know that for you it is not so I'll say it now. Do not under any circumstances look at my memories. Can you get that through your simple little brain?"

Harry sighed, "Yes, I understand."

"Good then." Snape placed the last silver thread into the pensive. "Let's get started. I doubt you have made any improvements…"

Harry let Snape's voice wash over him, nodding in all the appropriate places by dumb luck. The jest of the lecture, he knew was that he was a lazy useless , pampered little snot that was given too much leeway for his own good, and someone really should take him in hand. There was probably something about occulmancy in there some where as well.

"Potter," Snape calling his name snapped him out of his trance. "Shall we begin?"

Harry nodded and raised his wand. If Snape stayed true to form he would not wait for him to be ready. "Ligimens." Harry knew that he could not block Snape without seeming suspicious, so he did the only thing he could think of. He called up the memory of talking to a snake for the first time at the zoo and forced it at Snape's seeking magic, expanding the memory until it was all the professor saw. After what seemed to be a decent time he snapped his mind closed. Snape fell backwards into his desk.

"Interesting," Snape commented. "Again," He raised his wand and sent another thread of magic at Harry. This time Harry used the memory of him being chased around the quidditch pitch by dementors, the bone chilling cold came to mind quite easily. Snape suddenly pulled out of his attack and Harry reeled forward as the pressure he had been pushing against disappeared. Snape narrowed his eyes. "Very interesting. Why don't you try an actual block? You seem quite capable of it."

Harry stood stock still. He should have known Snape would not be stupid enough to fall for his trick. The snarky bastared probably knew all kinds of ways to keep people out of his mind; he had been doing just that for years now.

Without warning Snape raised his wand once more. This time Harry blanked his mind completely and let the magic go _through_ his mind. Snape stopped the spell but did not lower his wand. "Who are you?"

Harry bit his lip. "I told you once before, you wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Who are you!" Snape screamed throwing a cutting spell at the boy. Harry let it hit his arm, slicing open his robe but not touching the skin.

"I am the one who is going to kill Voldemort."

"Don't play games with me. What have you done with Potter?"

"Nothing, he stands before you."

"I don't believe you."

"Of course you don't; what I am saying is preposterous." Harry crossed his arms over his chest. "That is why I recommend that you get your emergency vile of vetriserum."

Snape paused for a moment taken aback by Harry's words. "You are insane."

"But this is something you have wanted to do for years. Admit it; you want to know all my little secrets."

"Only the insane or insanely desperate willingly take vetriserum."

"The former, please, I am by no means desperate." Harry sat back down in front of the desk. "Go and get it. I'll wait here." Snape licked his lips. It was obvious to Harry that he was considering his options. Finally the older man grunted and left the room. Harry felt him cast a warding on the office door, Snape didn't trust him.

Harry sat and waited. The minutes dragged on like hours and he could feel the cool sweat on his palms. He was about to show Snape his hand. He could only hope that the man would keep his secret, an ally would be very useful. But if Snape told Voldemort or Dumbledore… well then Harry would kill him. Slytherin never took well to the betrayals he didn't expect. When he put his trust in someone he expected that trust to be returned. It was a very select group he trusted, and mutual gain was integral to that trust. Death was the only acceptable punishment. Harry waited to see what his next move would be.

It had been ten minutes when Harry heard Snape's footsteps outside the door. He turned around, to make a scathing comment about keeping him waiting. A bolt of magic came shooting at his head. Only his quick reflexes kept him from getting hit. Harry hit the floor and rolled to the side. Getting his feet under him he cast a paralyzing spell at the potions master. The spell bounced off a magic shield and hit the desk. Harry cast a shielding charm on himself just in time to stop Snape's next attack.

The two of them stood across the room from each other knowing that there would be very few spells that could get through the shields as long as they could sustain them. Harry had no idea what Snape was thinking, but he was trying to find a way to pin the man's death on Voldemort. "Well, it seems to be my day for surprise attacks." He commented nonchalantly.

Snape cast a warding charm on the door, preventing exit. He walked toward Harry who stepped back out of arms reach. He bared his stained teeth at the boy. "We are at an impasse. So I propose going on with the original plan: you drinking the vetriserum."

Harry raised his eyebrows, "Now you want to talk?"

"You have given me a unique opportunity."

"I should kill you."

Snape merely looked at him. "Definitely not Potter."

"Did you even get the vetriserum?"

"Of course." Snape took a small vile out of his robes. "Three drops, Not Potter, I don't feel like disposing of your body tonight."

Harry glared at the potions master. "I know the dose," he snapped. He didn't wait for Snape to get him a glass of water but licked over the opening of the vile catching a couple of drops, then handed the vile back to Snape who took it with a disgusted look on his face. Harry smiled spitefully at the man.

Then the drug hit him. His head suddenly felt ten times lighter, and all the tension drained out of his body. Harry liked this feeling. Nothing mattered and he felt light as a feather. "Is it working yet?" Snape's voice sounded as if it was coming from underwater.

"It seems to be working just fine."

"A simple yes would suffice." Snape sat down behind his desk. Harry tried to sit back down in the chair but missed the first time and ended up sitting on the floor. He giggled. Snape rolled his eyes. "Do you need help?"

"Naw, I'll get it eventually." Harry got back up and managed to sit on the chair. He put his hands in his lap and looked at Snape expectantly.

"You don't seem afraid." Snape commented. "Aren't you afraid of what I will ask you?"

"Not really. What ever I tell you won't be as embarrassing as what they print in the _Prophet_, and it will be the truth at least."

"Yes, of course. Now let' start simple. Who are you?"

"Right now I am Harry Potter, Golden Boy, The Boy Who lived."

Snape frowned. "And who were you before?"

"As near as I can figure, about 1056 years ago I was the Dark Lord, Salazar Slytherin."

Snape's eyebrows shoot up. "You have got to be kidding me. Did you really drink the vetriserum?"

"Of course I did."

"Fine then, tell me what you saw inside my pensive last year."

"Well, it was after the owls and my father and his friends were teasing you. Dad had you hanging upside down, showing your dirty underwear off for the whole school to see." Harry stopped and looked across the desk at a red faced Snape. "Does that prove that I am Harry Potter, and that I have taken vetriserum, or would you like to hear about my early life, though you might want to specify which one or we could be here a while."

"Tell me your most embarrassing moment."

"There are a lot of those." Harry thought about it for a moment. "The worst of it all would be my first date. She ran out of the restaurant crying. She really wasn't over Cedric yet, but she did ask me out for Valentines Day. I hate that holiday." Snape opened his mouth to comment, "But my other most embarrassing time would have to be falling down the mountain, for the fifth time. By the way I was drunk not clumsy, drunk."

Snape looked at Harry with disbelief and wonder. "Salazar Slytherin?"

"Yup."

"You don't act like him."

"And just how long have you been alive?" Harry ranted. "I got this same lecture from Ron. Evidently Salazar Slytherin is equated with pure bloods in general and Malfoys in particular. I am nothing like Malfoy. I have never hated muggles specifically. I only think they are bigots, which wizards are too."

"Not hate muggles."

"I hate indiscriminately."

Snape bent over his desk laughing. The man actually laughed. "That was a good try Potter. You had me fooled for a while there. The vetriserum act was played real well. But to get someone to believe the exact opposite of what a thousand years of history has proven is preposterous." He stopped laughing and looked a stunned Harry in the eyes. "Detention tomorrow at eight pm, and practice your Occulmancy. Now get back to your dorm."

Harry got up as dignified as he could while drugged and walked to the door where he turned around to face his professor. "I told you, you wouldn't believe me, but just for kicks why don't you reweigh your vile of vetriserum." Then he left.

Snape frowned at the open door to his office for a while. The boy was even more infuriating than usual. How would he know that Snape weighed each and every one of his vials once a week? He looked at the vile sitting on his desk and snapped it up. He cast the weighing charm. It was almost a gram lighter, about three drops worth. The idiot boy had been under the effect of the drug. He hadn't been lying. Snape sat staring at the vial until he felt the searing pain in his arm calling him to his lord's side.

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Harry stumbled back to his dorm in tears. The hardest thing about vetriserum wasn't that you couldn't lie to others under its influence; it was that you couldn't lie to yourself. Not that Harry could lie anyway. For once, no matter how crazy he sounded Harry wanted someone to believe him. It was a long shot that Snape would believe him, but having taken vetriserum, surely he would be believed.

He mumbled the password to the Fat Lady and made his way up to the sixth year dorm where he threw himself on his bed. He rolled over to stare at the curtains above him. He had no idea how long he had been lying there before he felt the familiar pain in his scar. Voldemort was calling for a meeting again, and by the excitement Harry felt from the Dark Lord, it was something big.

Harry narrowed his eyes. He was tired of waiting. Screw the fact that he didn't know how he was going to beat Voldemort; tonight was the night Harry would formally challenge him for the position of Dark Lord. He got up and went into the bathroom. He stared into the mirror.

No one takes a kid seriously, no matter how old he really was. Harry's looks were detrimental to his cause. Salazar had had another persona that he liked to use when he was being "incognito." He wondered if it would work now. It required high level transformation magic, but it was nothing Harry couldn't handle. It was much like an animagus transformation, but it was more delicate, and a lot more upsetting to mind and body.

Harry closed his eyes and pictured the image clearly in his mind. A little change here, a little more there, complete overhaul down there, longer hair. The reflection in the mirror morphed and changed. Hair sprouted and grew in longer and thicker. The body filled out: wider hips and breast. When Harry opened his eyes a lovely young woman with a heart shaped face stared back at him. He studied the face critically before changing the eyes from green to gold. Arisa was back.

Arisa looked fine as far a she could tell, but her scar was still a visible line on her brow. She grabbed he wand out of her robes and took the chance that there was a sack full of makeup somewhere in the girl's dorms. "Accio makeup." She got more than she bargained for. No less than six heavy bags of makeup zipped into the room strait toward her head. She ducked and let the bags hit the mirror with repetitive thuds.

She opened the baby pink bag and fished around for the concealer. She pulled out the little glass bottle, Verreta's All Blemish Concealer in caramel skin tones. _Too dark_, she thought opening the next bag. The same brand in light cream. She tested the color on her wrist, still too dark.

Arisa went through two more bags before she found a bottle that said, "For the almost dead girl." She made a note to get out in the sun more often. Locking herself in a room for the whole summer had bleached her skin almost white. She quickly sponged some out onto her scar. The concealer blended itself beautifully with her pale skin. "Nice, now lets see what else they invented in the past thousand years."

A few minutes later she was done. Dusky shadow graced her eyes and she had use one girls pink tented lip gloss to accent her lips. A little blush gave her a more living look. "Now for the hard part." Arisa said looking down at her school robes. "What ever shall I wear?"

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The Dark Lord Voldemort looked over his cowering servants. They were all useless. He could still feel that raw dark power pulsing in the back of his mind; the challenger to his reign as Dark Lord, and it was coming for him. No one in his ranks had found anything pertaining to the dark presence. Only a few even felt it.

Voldemort raised his wand and cast crucio once more on the masked and cowled man on the ground before him. He watched the man writhe in pain, and sighed inaudibly.

As much as he loved to see others in pain he could not personally torture every subordinate for their failure or he would be here all night. Taking over the world was such a kill joy sometimes, but they had to be punished. If they started whispering that he was going soft he would have to do something drastic and then find new subordinates.

"Malfoy," he whispered to the man standing next to him. "I want you and Bellatrix to punish those outside the inner circle."

The cowled figure knelt down and kissed Voldemort's robes, "Yes my Lord. It shall be as you say."

Voldemort did not answer, instead he gestured to the anonymous flunkies on his right. "Move him." The two quickly stepped forward and dragged their groaning comrade off to the side where Snape was passing out healing potions like candy. "Crabbe, it is time for you to give your report. What have you found on this mysterious dark wizard?" the big man fell to his knees before his Lord and gulped down his bile.

"He knows nothing," a clear feminine voice called out from the back of the group. Voldemort snapped his head toward the voice and trained his eyes on a black cloaked figure blending perfectly with his servants. "Though I am disappointed. You still think that I am a man?"

The figure walked forward forcibly parting the see of black cloaks with a shield spell. The woman came to stand right behind the kneeling Crabbe and pushed back her hood with one delicate hand. With the cloak flung back it was obvious that the woman didn't belong here. She was wearing a pale blue gown with a thin black ribbon wound around her waist several times in what looked like a complicated pattern. No woman in Voldemort's ranks wore anything but black to the Deatheater meetings.

"Who are you?" Voldemort hissed at the young looking woman.

She only smiled. "I am the one you are looking for, of course." She looked around herself with seeming interest. "What's this little get together about?"

"You are brave to walk into the enemy's den unarmed."

"Don't assume." The woman retorted. She looked around once more her eyes stopping on Belatrix. Her golden eyes seemed to catch fire and the woman glared at Bellatrix with pure hatred.

_Interesting, our young dark witch seems to know our Bella_. Voldemort made a note to ask Bellatrix if she knew the woman from somewhere. "So why would a beautiful young woman like yourself come here."

The woman laughed a rich deep laugh. "Watching you flounder is no longer fun. I have come to bring my challenge out into the open. I am the Dark Lord and you will soon be dead like you should have been fifteen years ago."

"You seem to know much about me."

"No more than others would."

Voldemort smiled. "I don't think you have what it takes to kill me." He snapped his fingers, and as one those standing closest to the woman moved in.

The woman flung her arms wide throwing up a shield that threw the Deatheaters back. "You think that I can't kill you or that I can't kill period. She reached down and grabbed Crabbe by the chin pulling him into a standing position. She gave Voldemort a wicked smile before plunging her hand into the man's chest and pulling out his still beating heart. Crabbe's body fell unheeded to the ground as the woman crushed the heart in her grip. "Mark my words Tom; I will kill you and anyone who stands with you." She delicately licked the blood off her hand like a cat. She laughed once more and disaperated.

Voldemort was somewhat shocked. So this brazen female was his challenger, all was not as it seemed. No one waltzes into an enemy stronghold and kills one man only to leave. _You're right_, a voice whispered in his mind._ I was never really there that was only a projection of myself. If you were a true Dark Lord that is the power you could have. So try for it; I want to see you struggle._

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Wow that was a long one almost 5000 words by my counter. Hey I'm too lazy to look anything up so if I spelled any of the terms from the book wrong please tell me so I can fix it. Thank you very much.


	13. Preparing

Arisa woke to find herself staring at the bathroom door and congratulated herself on a job well done. Now that Voldemort had a target for his anger he would concentrate on finding her leaving Harry Potter/Salazar Slytherin to do as he pleased. She looked down at her transfigured robes. Such a lovely dress, to bad it had to go back to that horrid black sack they considered a robe at this stuffy school. Her right hand caught her eye. Ewww! She had dried blood on her hand. Wet blood she didn't mind; it was the dried, flaking blood that settled in every line in the hand that bothered her.

She turned around and ran the hot water. Arisa looked into the mirror. She looked as young and fresh as always. A perfect woman, she should know; she did design every part of her body. Rather, she did as Salazar.

Arisa decided to take the chance and strode out the bathroom door, makeup bags in her arms. She walked down the stairs into the common room and piled the bags on the table next to the low burning fire. It was unintentional, but this would turn out to be a good prank in the morning. They might even get to see Lavender Brown without makeup on. A phenomenon that hadn't happened since they were twelve.

Back up stairs in the boys dorm Arisa threw herself on her bed. She looked down at her body again admiring the attractive curves. Bracing her hips in her hands she lifted her legs up into the air to admire the strength and shape of her muscles in the moon light from the window. She really liked being a woman, and if it wasn't for periods, which still scared her and idiot men hitting on her she would stay this way.

Arisa laughed and kicked out at the air. Though she could never really forget that she was a man, the spell that turned her into a woman still proved to be useful. Arisa closed her eyes and began the transformation back into Harry Potter.

Harry lay on his bed staring at the curtains above him while his thoughts rearranged themselves into a more familiar pattern. _I'm going insane. I was a woman, and I liked it. _He also thought idly about the man that he had killed as Arisa, but that man was a Deatheater. Harry couldn't make himself care.

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The next morning Harry was quiet at breakfast. Ron kept trying to drag him into the conversation, but Harry managed to claw his way out of it. Yesterday had been a bad day. All he wanted to do was go back to sleep.

"Harry, Harry," he opened his eyes to see Ron waving a pastry under his nose. "What are you going to be for the ball tonight?"

"Not going, have work to do."

"What not going?" Ron snatched the pastry back just as Harry reached for it, and crammed it into his mouth. "Work?" He asked mouth still full. "How can you work at a time like this?"

"How can you make yourself understood with a whole pastry in your mouth?" Harry countered in mild fascination.

Ron shrugged and swallowed. "Lots of practice. But really, Harry, what are you going to do?"

Harry lowered his voice so that only Ron could hear. "I have to go play the evil wizard for the Slytherins. Ya know, hide out in their lair, jump out and yell surprise." He looked up at the head table to see Dumbledore staring at him. "Would you do me a favor?"

"Sure Harry, anything."

"Good, I need you to transfigure me into a kitten."

Ron's head snapped up from his breakfast. "Now? … I mean… why?"

Harry cocked his head to the side. Ron, having been carefully schooled in this subtle movement over the past week and a half, turned to see Dumbledore looking right at him. He froze sure that the Headmaster could read every thought in his head. "I want _him_ to spend the day looking for his helpless Golden Boy. As a cat I can disappear quickly, and they'll have to spend a lot of time searching this big old castle for one little kitty." Harry's voice was low and his lips didn't move as he spoke. Though he did flinch when the castle poked his mind at being called old.

"Now?" Ron asked, not really getting the jist.

"No, later while we're practicing."

"How will you change back?"

"That's easy. I think." Harry pushed back on the bench with his knees, moving Colin Creevy just far enough from the table to wonder if his arms had gotten shorter while he wasn't looking, and stood. "Let's get going. Draco already left five minutes ago."

"What and ruin his, 'Your Late' speech." Ron also stood and pushed the bench back a smidgen farther. "Let's hurry and ruin that speech." He and Harry walked right by a perplexed Colin who was staring worriedly at his hands.

Out in the hall Ron stopped and patted his robes. "I forgot my wand."

"What? Honestly Ron…" Harry trailed off shaking his head. "I sound just like Hermione."

"Wonder what she's been up too lately?" Ron said nodding his head in agreement.

"Spying on us for Dumbledore, hence the cat." Ron scrunched his eyebrows trying to remember what a cat had to do with all this. Harry sighed, "To the tower."

Inside Gryffindor tower the wailing could be heard coming down from the girls' dorms. "What is going on?" Ron asked Ginny, who was standing at the foot of the stairs leading up to the girls' dorm as if fortifying herself before entering a battle field.

"Lavender woke up this morning and couldn't find her make-up." She answered. "She screamed so loud it woke up everyone in the tower that decided to sleep in. We found the make-up on one of the common room tables, but now she's clutching it to her chest and howling."

Harry bit his lip to keep from laughing. He knew exactly what happened to Lavender's make-up. "It can't be that bad. I mean she can go one day without make-up right?"

Ginny turned lifted her chin. "You have no idea what you are talking about. Lavender Brown without her make-up is a ghastly sight. I've seen banshees that looked better. All she really needs to do is stop sneaking out every night and actually sleep, but she would rather look like a hag." She took a deep breath and charged up the stairs. Ron and Harry looked at each other then up the stairs where they could hear Ginny yelling for Lavender to pull herself together, slather some concealer on, and go eat.

"Well, that was interesting. I never knew Ginny had such strong feelings about that kind of thing. She's almost as disapproving as mom about 'fooling around'. Be right back." Ron bounded up the stairs after his errant wand because it was, of course, the wand's fault that it wasn't with him where it was supposed to be. "Found it!" He called from their room.

Harry crossed his arms. "Well, hurry up, right now Draco's preparing his 'You're

Really late speech'."

"Damn it!"

When the two Gryffindors finally got to the Room of Requirement, they found a seething Draco. The blond crossed the room in what had to be some kind of record, and planted himself directly in front of Harry. Not to close, Harry had the tendency to knock him to the ground if he got to close. "Where the hell have you two been?"

"Ron forgot his wand." Harry replied blandly. He then stepped aside leaving Ron to deal with the tirade to come. "But before you rip out his spleen; it is time for you to pay your part of our bargain."

"Huh,"

"Tonight is the night of the dance."

"Oh, yeah. How did you plan on going about that? I'm not stupid. I know you've been watched and not just your pet mudblood." Harry quickly grabbed Ron preventing what would have been a spectacular flying leap at Draco.

"Calm down Ron. After I'm gone you have most of the day to beat the crap out of him. Just make sure he can still walk and talk when you're through with him." Harry ground out glaring at Draco. He and Hermione may not be on the best of terms now but she was still very important to him. "Right now, I need to explain my plan."

"What no evil cackle?" Draco sneered.

"No," _Resist urge to kill._ "I know that I'm being watched."

"Yeah like now." At Draco's words Ron started and turned around in a circle looking for intruders. "Not like that you idiot, the walls have ears."

"Yes, they do?" Harry replied with a secretive smile. He then raised his voice. "Dearest? Would you please make sure no one is listening in on us, please?" The castle purred happily in his mind; it loved playing these games, and it had been so long since it had had someone to play with rather than toy with. And for good measure the castle also erased the last twenty minutes in the Room of Requirement from the spying spell, anything for one of those who built it.

In a rare moment of companionship Draco leaned over to Ron and whispered in his ear. "Who is he talking to?" Ron only shrugged his shoulders and the two of them stared at Harry under the mutual assumption that Harry had gone insane.

"I'm only talking to the castle." Harry said without turning around. This statement did not do anything to reassure the other two boys. "The point is now we can speak without being overheard."

"You're doing it again," Ron said.

"What?"

"Talking like an old man."

"Bite me."

"That's better."

"Anyway, we are going to practice, same as always. Except this time Ron is going to 'accidentally' transfigure me into a cat. Then I run away and you two run to tell everyone that Harry Potter is currently lost in the castle as a cat. I should through them off for the day. Then you let me into the Slytherin dorms after everyone has gone to the ball."

"But what about you," Draco asked. "You'll be a cat."

"I can change myself back." Harry said with the up most confidence. "I think."

Draco raised his eyebrow. "You think?"

"I'm going off a theory really."

"Theory?" Ron chimed in.

"Yes, the theory that anyone could change themselves back into their natural state with enough will power, no matter what."

"Have you tested this theory," Draco asked skeptically.

"Well," Harry replied uncomfortably, "That's what we are doing now."

Draco smiled a real smile; it was scary. "This could be fun. Can I do it?" He pulled out his wand and started to bounce up and down on his toes.

"No, definitely not. Ron is going to do it."

"Why him?"

"Because I trust him." That shut Draco up. "Okay Sweetie, you can let them spy on us again." Harry continued over Ron's protest. "I want the two of you to attack me at the same time. Don't worry about being so far behind Ron; you can do this."

Ron licked his lips and nodded his head. "Oh don't waste your breath. I'll blow you up before he even lifts his wand." Draco said warming up to his part. He stepped forward and set off a blasting curse. Harry deflected the curse just as he heard Ron cast his spell. Then Harry experienced the first hole in his marvelous plan as his wand fell and hit him squarely on the head. He shook his head and let out a small growl.

"Sorry Harry, I didn't mean for that to happen." This was when Harry realized that he was indeed a cat. He bolted for the door making both boys jump back from where they had kneeled before him.

Draco watched the black streak disappear from the room. "So, who do we tell?" He asked, having never been in a situation where he would actually want to tell a teacher about anything that went wrong.

"Whoever we run into first. Let's go, the hospital wing is just around the corner. Maybe he even ran that way." They walked down the hall together. Draco was making up stories as to why he was walking with the Weasel along the way.

"Madam Pomphry," Ron called, opening the large door to the hospital wing. The medi-witch looked up from where she was talking to a hysterical Colin Creevy. "No Dears, I haven't what' wrong?"

"Madam Pomphry!" Creevy Screeched. "Harry can wait. I have a real problem here." He held up his arms. "They're shrinking; I tell you." Both Draco and Ron frowned at this and experienced another one of those awkward moments where they agreed with each other. Madam Pomphry shook her head and walked toward Draco and Ron. She bumped the table next to Creevy's bed just as he was reaching for a glass of water on the table. "Ahhh! They're still shrinking," he screamed.

"It's all in your head dear," Madam Pomphry called over her shoulder. "Now, what has Mr. Potter gotten himself into this time?"

"Well…" Ron fumbled.

"We were practicing some spells we learned in class when this idiot transfigured Potter into a cat."

"Practicing? Together?" The witch put her hands on her hips. "You were fighting in the halls again were you?" She shook her finger at Draco. "I knew something like this would happen. Why you and that Potter boy can't just leave each other alone… Well, I'd better go tell the head master that Mr. Potter is… what was it again, Dear?" She looked at Ron.

"He's a cat ma'm, and he ran away. We can't find him." Ron whispered.

Pomphry sighed. "I'll go get the Headmaster; you two wait here." She left shaking her head.

"Way to go Weasel. I didn't know you had the capability of lying." Draco said sauntering over to where Creevy was cowering on one of the beds.

"I didn't lie."

"Whatever." Draco turned on the frightened Gryffindor. "What's your problem?"

"My arms are shrinking," was the whispered reply.

Draco raised his eyebrows. "I may have something that could fix that." He pulled a small vial out of his robes. Creevy looked at the bottle warily. It's not going to kill you." He held out the vial for the boy who reached out to grab it. "On one condition," Draco said snatching the vial back. "You become my new henchman." Creevy shook his head; he wasn't that dumb. "Or your arms can go on shrinking." But he was that desperate. He nodded his head with tears in his eyes. "Good, now give me your word."

"Okay," Creevy choked out. "You have my word."

"Good." Draco handed him the bottle. As the boy downed the contents of the vial, and trying not to throw it back up. Draco scooted the bedside table closer to the bed. "Now test it out. You couldn't reach that glass of water a few minutes ago, right?" Creevy nodded and reached out a shaking hand. The glass was well within reach. He smiled.

Ron slapped Draco on the back of the head. "What did you give him?"

"Something from Phomphry's stores."

"Yeah right. Will it kill him?"

"I don't think so." Draco smirked at Ron. "The point is now I have a mole in Gryffindor tower."

"Evil Slytherin."

Draco laughed, "I know."


	14. Halloween Night

Harry padded down the hall looking for familiar markers. Nothing was the same six inches off the ground. He had to crane his neck until it popped to see anything recognizable. Otherwise all he saw was the feet of some suits of armor. It all added up to the fact that he was completely lost. _Well_, he thought. _When in doubt go down._ He headed toward the nearest stair case and bounded down it, He missed the trick step by pure luck.

Harry bounded down two more stair cases until he was sure he had found the Great Hall. At least it looked like it; there were a lot of table and bench legs at any rate. He ran around the edge of the room trying to avoid the teachers or even worse first years. He remembered the time a pack of Ravenclaw first years had found a hamster. The look of terror in the creature's eyes haunted Harry to this day.

He found the door Snape used to make his escapes from dinner and pushed passed it. "Meoww," he heard from behind him. Harry turned to find Miss Norris standing behind him. He answered with a mew of his own only to get a hiss and growl in return.

_Oh crap!_ Miss Norris was glaring at him in a very unfriendly way. The hair on her back rose as she let out another challenging hiss. _Why me? _Harry asked no one in particular. At this point Miss Norris had decided that she had given enough warning and pounced. She wrapped her claws around Harry's neck and bit ferociously at his ear. Harry did the only thing that would have been appropriate in such a situation and started howling. Getting bitten on the ear is a painful experience.

Harry finally snapped out of the pain and sank his claws into the back of Miss Norris' neck, and then he yanked. She shrieked, letting go of his ear. Harry then started the counter attack: jumping up and attaching all four claws to the female cat's back. Miss Norris tried to shake him off but only succeeded in hurting herself more. Harry happily started to chew on her ears. He had never been able to physically take down a bully before; Dudley had always been some eighty pounds heavier than he.

In a final desperate attempt Miss Norris rolled over. Harry hit the hard stone floor on his side knocking the breath out of him. But Miss Norris was no longer interested in protecting her territory she shot off down the hall.

Harry lifted his head to watch her go a very smug look on his face. He got back on his feet and did one of those feline stretches that started with arching the spine and moved through every muscle in the body. _Never thought I would get into a cat fight_. He thought opening his mouth in a wide yawn. He laughed to himself in the cat way; a couple of quick burst of air through his nose. _I'm the first student to ever get back at Miss Norris for alerting Filch and getting so many students in trouble. Fred and George will be so jealous. I should write them a letter._

Harry continued on down the hall until he came to the bare stretch of wall that was the opening to the Slytherin dorms. Now all he had to do was wait for Draco to let him in later that night. He could have been bored for the six or so hours that he had to wait, but cats never waste their time being bored. So he did what all cats do when there is nothing better to do, or just whenever they feel like it. He went to sleep.

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He was woken up by a flurry of young Slytherins chattering their way up to the great hall. Harry watched the Slytherins with interest, especially the young girl dressed as a cat. He found it particularly interesting that that cat could walk on its hind legs and he could not. Harry shook his head. He had been a cat for too long he was loosing his grip on self. Still being a cat wouldn't be so bad. All he had to do was act cute and some little girl would take care of him and pet him, especially that itchy place right between his ears that would be nice. There would be no cameras or reporters or Voledmort to worry about that would be nice too.

_NO! No, no, no. Must kill Voldemort. It was my fault he came back; I must take care of him. Keep it together Harry. _By this time other Slytherins had started to ascend to the Great Hall. Harry supposed that he still had an hour or more to wait for those who wished to be fashionably late. He had never understood the concept himself seeing as it only annoyed those waiting for you, but self-important people seemed to like it.

Finally Draco came out of the dorm. "Potter," he whispered, "Potter." Harry considered making him wait. Years of resentment and rivalry telling him to come out of hiding only when Draco was crawling around on hands and knees looking for him. Then the rational part of his mind kicked in. Draco would never get down on his knees, and the wole plan would go up in flames.

Harry stepped out of the shadows all let out a soft mew. "There you are." Draco strode over to him, much like Snape would. Draco plucked Harry off the floor holding him under his fore legs. Harry mewed in protest. It really hurt tobe heldin such a way."Shut up." Draco huffed and stomped through the entrance to the Slytherin dorms.

The Slytherin common room had not changed much since Harry had infiltrated it in his second year. In fact it had not changed at all. There were still green couches and chairs scattered around the room. A few tables for studying and the mostly stone floor added to the chill décor. Draco lounged in one of the over stuffed chairs and waited for the late party goers to leave. The brave ones came over and asked why Draco was not dressed for the costume party. He replied in haughty tones that if they wanted to mingle with mudbloods they could, but he had standards.

Harry listened to Draco with some fascination, only now realizing how much of the blonde's life was an act; he needed a friend. _An attitude adjustment using some of Filch's wilder torture ideas would be nice too, and much more plausible at this point._ _Maybe something with screws. I've always been the creative type. _Harry thought as Draco chased a third year off with another scathing comment. The boy had only wanted to "pet the kitty."

But Draco had forgotten for the moment who he was and was scratching Harry behind the ears. Harry purred that thought over for a moment before turning his head all of a sudden and bighting Draco on the hand.

"Oww, damn cat!" Draco screamed slapping Harry on the nose. Harry's whole face went numb on contact. Everything was back to normal. "I think everyone is gone. Change back now." He smirked, "If you can."

Harry jumped off Draco's lap and padded across the room to stand in front of the fire place. _Let's see, Harry Potter… _He put a picture of himself firmly in his mind. _Now comes the disturbing part_. Unlike being transformed by another wizard, as in, poof, you're a toad. A self transformation involved a disturbing period where the wizard felt pretty much like a blob of wet putty. The magic pushing and molding you didn't help the feeling much either.

Harry stood in his true form in the Slytherin dorms. The world was much more familiar from this angle. "That wasn't so hard."

Draco on the other hand looked a little green. "Do you have any idea how disturbing that is to watch?" He had actually seen the morphing blob that had become Harry.

"Yeah, I wouldn't eat anything for a time."

"Dually noted."

Harry turned around and placed his hand on the fire place. He hissed a few words in Parseltongue, and a little compartment opened up in the back of the fire place. The fire burning merrily in the fireplace was little problem to a wizard with a good fire retardant spell. He pulled out a very old book. Pages falling out of the binding old. It was probably written on some kind of animal skin too.

Draco watched curiously. "What is that?"

"An old book on blood magic. My minor degree of premonition is telling me it will be helpful later." He held up the book. "Hopefully not too much later; this thing is about to fall apart."

"How did you know it was there?" Draco asked suspiciously.

Harry gave him a long considering look. He stared at Draco so long that the other boy actually started to fidget. Which Malfoys simply do NOT do. "If I tell you will you refrain from denying it?"

Draco frowned. "I would probably call you a liar is it was anything other than you snuck in here and stumbled upon it, because that is all I can come up with."

Harry turned back to the book. Carefully leafing through the pages. "Then you will just have to wait."

Draco clenched his fist. "And just how long do I have to wait?" He spat.

"Until about ten."

"Huh?"

Harry sighed. Draco could be so dense, and for a Slytherin that is a dangerous thing. "The younger years will be sent back to the dorms at ten."

Draco shook his head. "Wait a minute. You still plan on being here when the younger years get back from the ball? Are you suicidal?"

"Yes and No." Harry put the book down on a table and sat in the chair facing it. "I want to have a little chat with the Slytherin house."

"You're crazy. Why would you even try a stupid stunt like that?" Draco was getting angry. He felt that he was missing something, something very important, and he didn't like it.

"I am going to dissuade what's left of Slytherin from joining Voldemort." Harry leaned back in the chair and propped his feet up on the table next to the book. He gestured at a char across from him, playing the host. "Please have a seat. We have some time before the younglings get back."

Draco slowly sat down. "What do you plan to do?"

"Cajole, plead, threaten. In that order." Harry broke out into a grin at Draco's dumbfounded look.

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Draco was sitting across from Harry fighting, he thought valiantly, not to bite his nails. Not only was Potter going to get himself killed, making the deal they had obsolete; he was going to take Draco down with him. No one in Slytherin House, excepting Crabbe and Goyle, was stupid enough to believe that Draco had nothing to do with Harry getting into the dorms. Draco was going to be lynched.

He looked over at Harry. The other boy was still sitting with his legs crossed on the table, _how uncouth,_ looking like he didn't have a care in the world. He was deep in enemy territory he should not have been so calm. Something was different about Harry. Draco just couldn't put his finger on it. Draco stared at the dark haired boy harder. _Perhaps it's the air of confidence he's been exuding for the past couple of months, _he thought.

Draco frowned at the book. It bothered him that Harry knew a secret about Slytherin that he didn't. One that had been right under his nose in the _common room, _no less. It didn't add up. As far as Draco knew not even the Dark Lord knew about that hiding place. If he had surely he would have retrieved a book on blood magic. That was yet another ting that was bothering Draco, Harry seemed to have some background with blood magic. Dumbledore's prodigy should not even know that blood magic existed let alone be leafing through a book about it at this very moment.

Draco jumped as the common room door opened and a group of students trampled in complaining loudly about being shuttled off to bed while everyone from fifth year and up got to stay at the party until midnight. The whole group, almost all of the younger years came to an abrupt halt when they noticed Draco calmly, on the outside, sitting at a table with none other than Harry Potter.

"Oi, what's he doing here?" One of the older boys at the front of the group demanded pointing an accusing finger at Harry.

"I really don't know." Draco answered dryly.

A slow smile spread across Harry's face. Draco watched as he stood and walked around the table to stand directly in front of the spokesman of the group. "Why don't we wait for the rest of you to show up then I'll explain." He said in a low reasonable voice.

The boy on the other hand was disinclined to be reasonable. "You're not supposed to be here." He yelled. "I'm going to go get Professor Snape." The boy turned and stomped toward the entrance.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Harry called in a high singsong voice. The boy answered by turning and giving him the finger. Draco raised his eyebrows. _Cheeky little shit, _he thought. Harry on the other hand was somewhat less amused; he flicked his wand at the retreating boy. The kid fell as ropes wound themselves tightly around his entire body. Then with a sweeping motion of the wand the boy was flung back against the back of an overstuffed couch.

Draco turned from the spectacle to see the last of the students file in. This was going to be a long night.


	15. Halloween II

The students who were just arriving stared around blankly wondering why everyone was standing in the entrance and saw Harry with his wand out glaring down at a second year boy. Draco put his head in his hands. In his opinion everything was going to shit. Harry on the other hand snapped around to face the group with his wand behind his back and gave them a big smile. "Please come in," he said as if he owned the place. Draco stood and walked behind Harry. It seemed to be the safest place to be at the moment. As good as he was getting at fighting he did not want to try his luck against thirty witches and wizards no matter how young they were.

The students let out a collective gasp as Draco stood with the enemy. Harry snorted and looked over his shoulder to give Draco a comforting smile. It didn't work. Harry stepped forward and let the angry students surround him and indirectly Draco, who took out his wand and glared threateningly.

"There is no need for violence," Harry said breaking the tense silence. "I only want to talk with you." He bowed his head as if gathering his thoughts. Draco had never considered Harry to be a good public speaker, down right horrible at it in fact, but the next twenty minutes changed his mind.

"I am sure you all know of the return of the so called Dark Lord." He began. There were a few duh's from the back. "What's he mean by so called?" One asked. "Many of your parents are in league with him. Am I right?" No one moved. "It's alright to admit it here Dumbledore has no idea that this meeting is taking place."

How can we be sure of that," a girl from the front called out.

Draco decided at this point to through in the whole lot with Harry, his best chance of getting out from under both his father and Voldemort. "Because I helped to make sure he didn't. Every single one of you knows that I have my ways of avoiding attention." Which was mostly true, though he didn't think that the Headmaster himself had ever been deceived.

"Thank you Draco." Harry said. Everybody blinked at that statement, almost in unison. "But I'm not here to talk about your parent's allegiance they chose their path long before I was born. I'm here to talk about yours."

The boy nearest to Harry snorted. "And what about our allegiance? All you're going to do is preach to us about how bad Voldemort is and how morally wrong it is to follow him. How Dumbledore and that incompetent Prime Minister can help us. As if we would betray our parents."

"Not betraying your parents, how Gryffindor of you." The young man turned bright red at the insult. "But you're a Slytherin." Harry continued. "I think there are other reasons why you won't go to Dumbledore; his condescending, know-it-all attitude aside. You are afraid. You're parents expect certain things from you and don't care how they get it." Harry bit his lip to keep from exploding into a rant that while true was completely off subject. "You may be too young now for Voldemort to use, but in time you will be expected to bow to him as your master, and if you don't you will be tortured and killed." A few feet shuffled revealing the truth of his statement. "I am not asking you to join the side of light, but I do want you to join me."

"You are a fool," Draco said directly behind him. "Your name is synonymous with the light."

Harry turned around to glare at Draco. "That is a misconception." He turned back around to face the curious students. "I know it is hard to believe that there is another path for you to follow in your lives, but I can give that to you. No one has ever given you a choice, but I will now. There is a way that you can stay true to your families dark traditions and not have to serve Voldemort."

Draco frowned. He had made a deal with Harry for a way out and now he was giving it to a bunch of snot nosed kids for free. It was completely unfair, making him, the Great Draco Malfoy, work when he really didn't have to. Harry was going to pay for this… this absolutely Slytherin plan. Draco was too busy fuming to catch Harry's next few words.

"…so you should stand against Voldemort and his followers, even those among the older students." Many of the Slytherins looked nervous at this. "Yes," Harry answered the unasked question, "I know there are Death eaters among the sixth and seventh years, and I even know who. Well, will you join me in the fight against the false Dark Lord?"

The young boy who had spoken up earlier stepped forward and with his bowed, "We won't be joining you. As Slytherin it is the highest priority to save our own skins. It is too risky."

"Where the hell did that concept come from anyway." Harry asked the air in front of him, "I always said to do anything in your power to get what you wanted, or more famously, damn Godric and his practical jokes, I said, 'I'll jump through fire before I'll eat that flubber worm,' but I never said to settle for anything." He started as if from a daze. "That may have been a bit revealing." He said to the boy, whose mouth was hanging wide open.

Draco jumped on Harry's slip of the tongue like the snake he was curling around it until it stopped struggling in his crushing hold. "You say that like you actually knew the original Griffindork." He accused.

"Well, ah, ya see. There's this painting…" where the painting was Harry had no idea. "I've gotten acquainted with it over the years." Harry smoothed out his speech as he got into the half truth. "He's an interesting man, not at all what you would think."

"I don't believe that. I know that painting too. It's in Dumbledore's office." Draco said crossing his arms. "Care to try again?"

Harry paused trying to find a convincing half truth. Not being able to lie could be a real pain, but this could work in his favor, if he could get them to believe him. He put on his dopiest smile. "I'm the reincarnation of Salazar Slytherin."

Draco blinked. Many of the students behind him had the I-don't-believe-he-said-that look on their faces. Draco pulled out his wand and pointed it a Harry's head. "You expect us to believe that. The Gryffindor Golden Boy could never be a dark wizard let alone one that died a thousand years ago."

"I am serious Draco," Harry dropped all pretense of stupidity. "Not only am I Salazar Slytherin, I am the true Dark Lord. Remember when I told you that story about the thief that read the magic scroll? That was Salazar, me. Voldemort somehow got a hold of a copy of the scroll, and I have to kill him."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "I don't believe you."

"You don't have to. Go ask Professor Snape. He knows the truth, or should by now." Harry sighed. That stubborn old git better have checked the weight of that vile or Harry was in deep shit. "Go on get him."

"If I bother Professor Snape now he'll take my head off." Draco whined. His eyes then lit up with an idea. He pointed at the most vocal of the students standing behind him. "You, go get Professor Snape. Tell him that Potter is in the Slytherin dorms. The young man opened his mouth in protest. Draco just pointed his wand directly between the boy's eyes. "Go, or you'll be spending the next month covered in painful boils." The boy fled.

"That wasn't nice." Harry said from behind him.

"Never said I was nice Potter and that just proves that you are not a dark wizard." Draco threw Harry a triumphant smirk.

Harry sat down and picked up the ancient text he had been reading just before the students had come in and started to flip through the pages pretending to read. _How am I going to get out of this one? I finally understand what mom used to say about lying being easy_. Harry stared blankly at a picture of a man transforming into a human harpy hybrid.

_I never meant to tell them, but if they believe… Why do I always have to clean up the cosmic mess? When I was Salazar I had to hide dark witches and wizards, who seem unable to keep low profiles, from the inquisitors, and now I have to kill a Dark Lord who actually is a Dark Lord, meaning he has access to information that would make the most evil of the self proclaimed dark lords cringe. Not the best case scenario. _

"Don't think so loud. It bothers me." Draco said right over his shoulder.

"Humm…" Harry turned to face him. "Why are you turning me in? That wasn't part of the deal."

Draco shrugged and lifted his eyebrows at the picture. "Not my kind of art but interesting. I didn't know a human spine bent that far."

"Answer the question."

"You have suddenly turned very un-Gryffindor, and your mudblood friend has been avoiding you." Harry tensed at the mention of Hermione. "So I figured that I could pry some answers out of you."

"What about our deal?" Harry shook his head. "Wait, stupid question. You have seen to your side of the deal, and I… thank you. But I'm still going to run you into the ground every day after classes and on weekends." Harry ignored the jab about Hermione, though it still hurt him. She had been ignoring him, all but running away when he entered the room.

"For your sake I hope that this training works because if I die I'm haunting you for the rest of your life." Draco glared at the Gryffindor. "So are you going to tell the truth?"

"Already have." Harry suddenly turned toward the entrance of the common room. "Good evening Professor." He said to a seething Snape.

"Potter, what are you doing here! One hundred points from Gryffindor! Get out!" Snape barked. The man was quivering with rage. Yellow teeth clenched tight.

"But Professor," Harry said with a smile. "We seem to have a disagreement that you can solve for us." Snape turned red with anger. He opened his mouth only to shut it once more. "Remember that conversation we hand in your office the other night? The one that included Vetriserum." Snape paled at Harry's words. "I take it that you have discerned the truth of the situation."

"Yes, I have." Snape grated out. "But that doesn't change the fact that I hate you and will always hate you. You are nothing but a spoiled brat, coddled by everyone."

Harry cocked his head to the side. "True enough, but I don't _like_ being coddled; just am, though your idea of coddling is rather broad if it includes near starvation. They mistake me for the Light's savior, which I am not; you agree."

"Agreed." Snape looked around at the shocked students. They had never seen anyone but Dumbledore stand up to their Head of House. And never had they thought that Severous Snape and Harry Potter would agree on _anything_. "Let me reiterate, I hate you, no matter who you have been in the past. You have obviously died and become the worse for it."

"So he's telling the truth; he is the reincarnation of Salazar Slytherin." Draco wailed in dismay as his entire world dropped out from under him. Eyes that were normally narrowed with cunning widened to the point of bugging out of his head.

Snape turned to the blond and actually felt a stab of sympathy for him. He imagined that that was the way he looked when he had measured the vetriserum. "Unless Potter has found away to lie under the influence of vetriserum, then yes he was telling the truth." He eyed Harry not willing to completely believe that it was impossible for him to have done so.

"Not yet, sir," Harry answered the silent question. Professor Snape scowled. "Hey, I have an idea." At this point everyone was skeptical of Harry. Draco thought it pathetic that a room full of Slytherins could be afraid of one Gryffindor, but if the Professor believed what Potter had said… "Let's Duel Professor." Draco was jerked out of his thoughts by the words.

Snape seemed just as surprised. He paused not quite sure how to answer that. "You are my student." He finally bit out holding his nose like he had a sever head ache. "As much as I would like to thrash you, I can't."

"Come on Professor," Harry wheedled. "I hate you, you hate me, and technically I'm not your student as I have completed most of my education a thousand years ago." He smiled. "We'll only use magic. I promise."

Snape thought it over for a moment, a long moment. The first and second years started to fidget with boredom but were unwilling to pass up the chance to see their head of house battling the Golden Boy. "You know I can't as long as you are considered a student here." Snape said with obvious disappointment. "The spell Dumbledore cast on the teachers that work here won't allow it within school grounds."

Harry's face fell. He had really been looking forward to flattening Snape in a wizard's duel, but even he had to admit that it was too much of an advantage for him if Snape was restricted by one of Dumbledore's spells. He sighed, "Some other time then."

Snape stood by the door. "If I have answered all of your questions," He glared around the room making it obvious that he better well have answered any and all pressing questions. "Potter leave now."

Harry stood gracefully gathering the book he had taken from the fireplace to his chest. He strode over to the door and suddenly snapped around with his wand held out in front of him. Snape automatically threw up a shield, but Harry only whispered a few words before putting his wand away. "Sorry, can't have this information spread around the school." He winked at Snape and said to the Professor alone. "That shield only works against spells that cause direct harm. Try the Ferrisan Block next time." He then stepped out into the hall way and went immediately into damage control mode because he was sure he had screwed up somewhere.

"Potter," Snape snapped from behind him. "Detention, tomorrow, Filch, eight o'clock."

Harry's shoulders sagged. "Damn it, this is the last time I save the world; I swear!"

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Sorry this chapter is late. I admit to symptoms of procrastination and writer's block.


	16. After

The week following Halloween had been interesting for Harry. The first year Slytherins had taken up the habit of bowing to him every time he passed them in the hall, or rather, they would bow about half way and then remember that he was a Gryffindor, Harry Potter no less, and they would snap back up with a ridged spine and glare at him before turning on heel and running away. It took Harry some time to figure out that they were running away because they were afraid of him. He hated it when children were afraid of them.

This revelation had him cornering a poor unfortunate girl before she could bolt. He dragged her over to the side of the hall ignoring a group of Ravenclaws that were casting them odd looks. Harry explained as patiently as he could, to the frightened girl, that there was no need for her or any other first years to fear him and that there was no need for them to either bow to him or acknowledge him in any way. The girl only curled her ash brown hair around her finger in agitation clearly not hearing a word he said. It took ten minutes, but he finally got her to understand and had her promise that she would tell the others. He patted her on the head and continued on to class.

After being assured of their safety the younger years started to follow him every where. They even made it into one of the daily practices that he had with Ron and Draco.

"What are they doing here?" Ron had asked gesturing at the three Slytherin boys that had followed him into the Room of Requirement. "I don't exactly feel right with so many Slytherins around."

"Then leave, Gryffindork." One of them called out.

Ron turned red and started to bare down on the little mouth, but Harry stepped between them. "That's enough Ron. They're just kids."

"Why are they here?" Ron practically screamed.

Draco who had been lifting weights in the far corner of the room strode over wiping his brow with a towel. "It pains me to say it, but I have to agree with the Weasel. They shouldn't be here. Get your new fan club out of here."

The smallest of the boys stepped forward. Standing at full height he reached up to Draco's chest. "We wanted to see you and Harry kiss." Draco's mouth fell open and his cheeks turned red. The boy saw the dangerous glint in his eyes and stuttered on. "The w-whole s-school's been talking about it. You keep… slipping away together. We, well…"

All four of the Slytherins jumped when Harry burst into laughter. "Well, that one came back to bite me in the ass." He jauntily wrapped his arm around a stunned Draco's waist and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek. "There, now get out you three. We have work to do." He shooed the gaping boys out the door.

"What the hell was that for?" Draco screamed after the door closed. He scrubbed his cheek with the back of his hand.

Harry glanced at Ron who seemed a little green. "I was preserving our story. Not that I don't trust them, but I prefer not to take chances.

"Huh?" Ron asked as if coming out of a daze.

"Chances for what?" Draco asked.

"Chances that your father will find out what we're up to."

Draco stared stupidly. "Oh."

"Let's begin," Harry clapped his hands acting like nothing had happened at all. Draco was still in a state of shock. For the first time he began to think that Harry's insane story about being Salazar Slytherin was true. "Ron you still need to warm up. Draco take up a stance and come at me. I want to see how well you can apply what you have learned in a battle situation; don't hold back. I'll be fine."

Harry slipped his knife from the sling on his wrist and dropped into a fighting stance. Draco grabbed his own knife and played with the tip for a moment thinking. Harry obviously wanted a fight, or else he would have waited to practice with Ron. It was gratifying that Harry thought he was better than Ron at knife fighting, but when Harry really wanted to fight…

Draco reexamined his last thought. It mattered to him, what Harry thought of his knife fighting skills. Still, Harry was his rival, maybe there was an advantage to being closer to the Gryffindor. He just had to find out what it was, what he wanted to get out of this new tentative relationship.

Harry began to get impatient still standing with knees slightly bent, knife at the ready he called out, "Hurry up, there's no need to plan your funeral yet, it's only practice."

Draco started at his words. His eyes flashed. _How dare that little son of a mudblood…_ Inarticulate furry overtook his thoughts, but he quickly cleared his mind and began plotting his _teacher's _downfall.

Harry smiled as Draco finally took his stance. Finally, some action, he really needed a good fight. He lamented, momentarily, the fact that Godric wasn't there to spar with. He had always enjoyed testing his knife skills against Godric's sword.

Draco charged him. Harry fell into the flow of battle. Draco came right at him, as any amateur would do, but at the last second side stepped so that Harry's knife only caught his robes. Harry barley managed to roll and avoid the backslash toward his ribs. He jumped back, appraising Draco once more. The blond was defiantly a fast learner. Harry dove in again this time catching Draco's knife hand in his left hand as the blade descended. He slashed up at Draco's throat, stopping just before the knife would have drawn blood, just before he fell on his ass.

"What the fuck?" Harry looked up at Draco standing over him with a cocky smile on his face. "You stepped on my robes."

"What were you expecting, me to let you slit my throat?"

"I'm good enough to stop before I draw blood. Have a little faith. Besides that was cheating."

"Hello, Slytherin." Draco pointed to the crest on his chest. "You should understand that better than anyone."

"There are certain codes of conduct for every situation." Harry huffed. "If this were a real fight I would have thrown dirt in your eyes _and_ kicked you in the balls, but in a practice match the main focus is supposed to be on form. That was bad form."

Draco snorted. "And you're supposed to be the reincarnation of one of the most infamous Dark wizards."

"Being scary, rude, and, quit frankly, disgusting. Is not all there is to being a dark lord, and contrary to all the evidence there is no place in the Dark Lord's Creed that says 'thou shall not bathe, live in comfortable surroundings, or not have a penchant for world domination."

"Really, and what does the Dark Lord's Creed say?"

Ron finished his warm up and joined the conversation. "Yeah, I've been wondering about that. Every time I mention an infamous Dark Lord you tell me that they were just dark wizards whose egos got too big for their heads. What gives?"

"Well, Grindelwald was a Dark Lord, and so is Voldemort, but most of those who declare themselves Dark Lords or Ladies just think the title sounds cool."

"What does it say?" Draco asked carefully.

"It's a pledge to serve the Darkness. I still don't know what that means. It also makes you very powerful that's about it. The title is actually very over rated."

Ron scratched the back of his head. This was going no where. He wondered just how powerful a dark lord could be. He shrugged, "Well anyway, let's practice. I need to work on my defensive stance."

"Yes, let's," Harry nodded and pointed to the center of the mat. Both boys began a bout completely ignoring Draco who was trying to glare through Ron's head. Draco knew it was impossible to get Harry talking after the lessons started so he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, waiting as patiently as he ever did for his turn. He was, of course, annoyed, but it looked like Harry was going to teach them a new spells today, and Draco was always eager to learn new spells.

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Much later after Draco left Harry sat on a bench talking to Ron, who was rubbing his sore arm muscles. Harry kept gesturing wildly trying to get his point across to the red head. It was close to dinner time and Ron was more worried about his stomach than he was about Harry's animagus form. Ron had been making a lot of progress in his transformation and could now change his hand into a large paw. "Ron are you even listening to me?"

"No, but if your so worried quit."

"I can't quit. I just don't know what the hell I'm going to turn into."

Ron frowned. "Sounds like you're going to be some sort of demon." He glanced at his watch. "Five minutes to dinner. Let's get going. I'm starved."

Harry nodded miserably, contending once again with the fact that anyway he looked at the situation, he was a freak. Ron took advantage of his longer legs and strode single mindedly down the hall a good ten feet in front of Harry. Harry was looking at the floor lost in his own thoughts when he heard a spell whispered in Latin from behind the statue he had just walked pasted. He turned in time to be hit in the face with a bright silvery light.

Momentarily blinded all he could do was blink. When his eyes cleared he saw Hermione standing in front of him with a frown on her face. "Shoot, I was sure I finally had it right." She mumbled still pointing her wand at Harry.

_Had what right?_ Harry thought. "Hermione, what the hell are you doing?"

Hermione blushed. "I was trying to reveal your true identity, but the spell didn't work."

"True identity?"

"I know you're an imposter. You're horrible at pretending to be Harry. What have you done with him?" She punctuated her last sentence by stomping on his foot.

Harry howled at Hermione's assault, backing into the wall. "I am Harry. Hermione listen to me…" He got hit full in the face with another spell. Hermione had impeccable aim. Harry fell over on his side as the paralyzing spell took effect. Cursing himself for being soft on her because of their friendship he murmured a counter spell. Taking the young witch completely by surprised Harry jumped up, pulling out his wand and cast a reverse shield spell around Hermione.

Hermione cast one more _Stupify_ spell and it rebounded off the shield that tightly surrounded her body. She dropped to the ground. "What the hell is going on?"

Harry turned to see Ron walking toward them, his eyes drifting from Harry to Hermione's prostrate form and back to Harry. "She attacked me." Harry said defensively at Ron's accusing look.

"What did you do to her?"

"I made her knock herself out." Ron raised his eyebrows. Harry thought momentarily about how Both Ron and Draco were starting to rub off on each other. He wisely decided not to comment on this. "It was only a stupify spell. She'll come around in a minute. As if on cue Hermione moaned. "See."

Ron shook his head and knelt down beside his girlfriend. It gave him a thrill thinking of Hermione as his girl friend, and to be her knight in shining armor. He put his hand on her back. "Hermione, are you okay?"

"Ron," She exclaimed. "Hurry, catch that Harry imposter. He's getting away."

Harry smiled. "I'm right here, and don't plan on going anywhere." His face turned serious as he looked down into Hermione's wide brown eyes. "We need to have a talk."

Hermione chewed on her bottom lip. For the first time she was entertaining the idea that Harry had been telling the truth the whole time. She turned to Ron, "And what do you have to say about all of this," she snapped.

Ron looked somewhat surprised. All his fantasies of being praised for coming to his girlfriend's aid evaporated into the hot summer sun of Hermione's words. "Well…" He decided that the most uncomfortable place to be was between your best friend and girl friend while they were fighting. He hunched his shoulders forward and gave the completely honest answer hoping that he wouldn't get slapped for it. "Nothing." Ron sat back on his heels with a thoughtful look on his face.

Harry bent down to help Hermione up. She stared at his outstretched hand as if it would bite her. "Hermione," Harry said in a coaxing tone. "Trust me." She looked toward Ron who only smiled and nodded. Hermione took Harry's hand and pulled herself up. "Let's go somewhere where we can talk privately."

"But Harry," Ron complained, "Dinner."

Hermione shook her head. Harry stood with his mouth hanging open. He could not believe the single mindedness of his best friend. Hermione saw this and giggled reassured that the young man standing before her was indeed Harry. Though it did not mean she wasn't going to grill him later. Before she was completely convinced that he was Harry he would have to recount all five of their previous years at Hogwarts together, to her satisfaction.

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Later that night, after everyone else had gone to bed, found Harry curled up into a ball in a chair next to the fireplace begging for Hermione to stop. Ron watched from off to the side in fascination. He thought Hermione had good shot at becoming and interrogator for the Ministry of Magic. She had not let up for three hours dragging each and every detail of the past five years from Harry. Red hot pokers seemed less effective after watching Hermione hunt down the facts.

Hermione sat in front of Harry with parchment and quill checking off questions as she asked them. "What kind of dragon did Haggrid try to harbor?"

"Norwegian Ridgeback."

"How did you pass the second challenge of the Triwizard's Tournament?"

"Dobby gave me some gillyweed."

Hermione stopped and made another notation. "Where did he get the gillyweed?"

"Snape's stores. Hermione isn't that enough?"

"No. What happened in the chamber of secrets second year?"

"There's no way you could confirm that; you weren't there."

"Ron told me; you told me. Now, answer the question."

Harry recited the whole tale knowing from past questions that Hermione wanted every detail.

"Okay, one more." Hermione said marking off the last question. Harry was tempted to jump up and dance. The torture was almost over. "Where is the Order of the Phoenix's headquarters?"

Harry's face fell becoming almost a comical mask of indignation. "couldn't we have asked this question first?" he dead panned. Hermione shrugged unrepentant. "Grimauld Palace. Happy now."

Hermione suddenly jumped out of her chair and landed on Harry. "Ohh, Harry I'm so sorry I doubted you. I should have listened to you from the beginning."

Harry was silent for a moment trying to get his breath back after having it knocked out of him. "It's okay Hermione." He said hugging his friend in relief. He was happy to have Hermione back. For the longest time he had thought that his relationship with her had been destroyed. He felt tears run down his face. He realized that despite all the changes he was experiencing he would always have his two best friends.


	17. The Really Late Chapter

Harry sat in the library reading over the spell book he had taken from the Slytherin common room. He frowned at the old yellowed pages with faded writing. The last time he had seen the book the pages had been crisp and his bold hand writing had been readable. Rowena's voice drifted up from the back of his mind telling him that he really should put a preservation spell on his books. Damn the woman for being right. At the time he had thought Rowena had been indulging in her book fetish.

The prickly sensation of Hermione staring at him started to get on his nerves. He was glad to have her back, but this was ridiculous. First she was mad at him for not being Harry, and now she was breathing down his neck trying to get her hands on the book. Finally he looked up at her where she sat with her hands folded in front of her on the table. "Okay, you might as well get over here so you can read over my shoulder."

Hermione immediately jumped up and rounded the table. Harry didn't even see her move before he heard the scrape of the chair next to him. She wrinkled her nose at the spell he was looking at. It detailed a procedure for using someone's blood to turn them into a golem. Suddenly the book was no longer in front of him. Harry blinked at Hermione annoyed that she was acting this way. She had no right… "Is this the spell you were looking for?" She asked completely unperturbed by his seething.

Harry looked at the book. Yes, it was the exact spell that Voldemort had used to resurrect himself. Harry nodded shortly, began to read. Hermione had most likely cut three hours out of his search by finding the spell in less than ten minutes, but that didn't mean he was going to thank her for it. Harry flipped the page over. He already knew the spell intimately from being one of the key ingredients. On the back of the page in his own hand was a list of the advantages and disadvantages inherent in the spell.

He scanned the list. It seemed that the spell was almost fool proof. Voldemort could not be killed by physical means, nor could offensive magic affect him. The body Voldemort inhabited could be dismembered but would never truly die. The spell tied the soul to the body permanently. There were some disadvantages, but they all dealt with the casting of the spell.

Harry sat back and sighed. Hermione pulled the book back to herself and read the spell. "Well, that didn't really help." She looked up. "What now?"

Harry shook his head. "I'm missing something, something basic."

"Harry, this whole book is about blood magic." Harry nodded. "Blood magic is illegal." Harry nodded again waiting for her to tell him off for having and illegal book at hand. "Can I read it?" Harry shrugged. He was already deep into his own thoughts trying to puzzle out what he was missing.

"Do you have any ideas?" He asked Hermione suddenly.

She looked up startled. "Give me some time to study up on this," was his answer. Lovely, annoying, nose stuck in book, just like Rowena. Harry left her in the library. It was getting exasperating. Voldemort was on a rampage. Entire families ended up dead every day. Harry couldn't help but think that he was the cause of all the suffering. Snape had been reporting to Dumbledore that Voldemort was concentrating most of his powers on finding a certain dark witch, but there seemed to be no end to the bad news. Three Ministry officials had gone missing since last week.

The castle corridor seemed to be darker than usual. Harry trudged up to the Gryffindor common room with his eyes on the floor. The part that pissed him off the most was that Dumbledore seemed to be doing nothing about the situation. That old man was supposed to be the one Voldemort feared the most, but the tracking spell Harry had placed on the Headmaster placed Dumbledore in Fudge's office most of the time he was away from the school. In Harry's opinion the Headmaster should stop spending so much time placating that fool and solve the bloody problem in front of him. Namely the miniature Deatheaters roaming the school, his sources in the Slytherin dorm had told him that the sixth and seventh years were holding private meetings late at night. Nothing good could come of that.

Suddenly the hall warmed. Harry could feel the soft heat and the support that the castle was giving him. She had never liked it when he was sad. He smiled and placed his hand on the wall. The stone was warm and rough to the touch. Then he was pulled into the castle's memory. Ghostly forms appeared in the hall walking quickly in reverse. I was like watching a rewinding movie. Harry wondered briefly what the castle wanted to show him. People continued to race past him. A few even walked through him.

As the flashback started to slow Harry started to notice the small changes that had taken place in the hall. _When am I?_ He asked the castle unperturbed. He had used this feature of the castle more than once as Salazar to seem omnipotent to his students. There was a time when no secrets were kept from him within these walls.

A loud, brash laugh made him turn to the way he had come. His eyes widened at the site that greeted him. Walking toward him was his father and Sirius. They both looked so young and care free. Sirius was clutching something in his hand. The rakish smile on his face proclaimed to the world that one of his pranks had gone very well.

"I can't believe that old bat kicked us out of the library for that." James Potter said in a huff, slightly less enthusiastic about whatever had happened. "You know that we can't possibly finish that report for McGonagall now that we are banned from the library."

"What do you care, you were going to BS the whole ting anyway." Sirius said. He held up the object in his fist. "Besides the whole thing was worth it." Harry peered closer trying to figure out what he was holding.

James grinned. "Yeah, that was totally worth it. Let me have it." James held out his hand "Snape's going to freak when he finds it missing. What is it supposed to do anyway?" He held up the small vile and gazed at its contents. Harry could see that it was a dark red fluid.

"Don't know all I know is that it is something that he is working on to get his masters in potions."

"No shit. Looks like blood." Harry had to agree, but he knew it wasn't the color was too dark to be blood. Harry took a step closer to the two other boys trying to get a closer look. The image disappeared as soon as his hand left the stone.

"Damn it!" He had forgotten that in order to see the castle's memory you had to stay in direct contact with the stones, and the castle had to like you, but Harry had no problem with that. The old girl loved him. Harry shook his head. He wanted to ask the castle to repeat the memory, but he knew that someone, somewhere, had felt that surge of magic. It is kind of hard to miss the sun during the day. It seemed that it was time to pay another visit to Snape. The day kept getting better and better. Harry continued on to the Gryffindor tower. He needed a nap before dinner.

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The Slytherin common room was quiet, but then the Slytherin common room was always quiet. No matter how many people were shoved into the room they would immediately break off into separate groups and start scheming. Draco sat on one of the couches with Blaise practically draped across his lap. Draco tried to ignore the boy but he just wouldn't shut up. Blaise was currently complaining about Draco's "relationship" with Potter.

"Would you please shut up about Harry Bloody Potter," Draco rubbed his eyes trying to remember what he had been thinking about before Blaise had started to discuss the possibilities of his fascination with the Gryffindor. The idiot had no clue. "Fine, fine." Blaise pouted and laid his head on Draco's thigh. Draco grimaced and was about to say something when he realized that the other boy had finally shut up. He shrugged. If it kept him from being interrupted by mindless chatter he could put up with it. He went back to his pondering.

From all the evidence he could gather, Draco had to admit that Potter was telling the truth when he said he had been Salazar Slytherin. Potter didn't even act like a Gryffindor anymore. He had also mentioned a creed that if read allowed would give him, Draco, more power than he had ever imagined. But two problems presented themselves in the form of two other Dark Lords already fighting for a title meant for one. Draco was not stupid; even if he could find the creed he knew that he didn't have the training to defeat one let alone both Potter and Voldemort. Draco threw that aside. First things first. He needed to secure a copy of the creed.

"Blaise,"

"Huh," the other boy mumbled. He had fallen asleep.

Draco sighed. "I need your help to research something."

"What?"

"Do you still have that talisman you made that makes you invisible to the spells placed on the restricted section of the library?"

"Yep"

"Good let's go."

"Wait a minute." Blaise help up his hand. "What are we researching?"

"The secret to the Dark Lords power."

Blaise's eyes widened. "What makes you think we would find something like that in the library?"

"Two reasons: Salazar Slytherin had this power and would have kept it in a well guarded location, and Voldemort had to have found it when he was a student here, considering he lived in the muggle world when he was not at Hogwarts."

Blaise nodded. "Do you have any idea what we are looking for?"

"All I know is that it is a creed of some kind."

"That's not much." Blaise said disapprovingly. "But I have something that will make this search much quicker."

"What?"

"Wait right here, my love." Blaise disappeared into the dorms without giving Draco time to comment on being called "love." _Such a disgusting word._ He thought.

Blaise came back and sat down beside Draco holding out his hand. Sitting in the middle of his palm was an unremarkable black stone. Draco picked up the stone with his fingers careful not to touch Blaise's hand. "What," he asked, is this?" He held up the stone between thumb and forefinger.

Blaise smiled. "You know my hobby of making talismans out of everyday objects." Draco arched his brow and he rushed on. "This one is used to look up a topic using key words. All you have to do is point your wand at the stone and say 'find' then say the key words. Every book with all of the key words will glow a light blue. It'll even show what pages the information you are looking for is on."

Draco picked his jaw up off the floor. He knew that Blaise had an almost obsessive habit of putting spells on inanimate objects. There was even a chair in the corner of the common room that started to scream profanities if you sat on it. This though was amazing. He had never heard of anything like it. "That is amazing."

A big goofy grin plastered itself on Blaise's face. He glanced at his watch. "It's already eleven o' clock. You want to go now?"

Draco nodded then came to his senses. "Why do you want to help me?"

"Because I love you, and you will owe me one for this."

Draco winced that couldn't be good. "Fine, let's go."

In the library Draco stood behind Blaise tapping his toe impatiently on the stone floor. "Will you stop that." Blaise snapped. "If this stone lights up all the books with 'tap tap tap' in them I'm going to hit you. What exactly are we looking for?"

Draco scowled at the reprimand. "I don't know exactly. The only thing I know is that it is the creed of the Dark Lord. I'm not even sure if that is what it is called."

Blaise arched an eyebrow. He looked at the stone in his hand and said very clearly, "Find: Creed, Dark Lord." A small blue light lifted out of the stone. It hovered for a second before zooming over to the nearest shelf. It shot through the center of every book in the library in under a minute. Every once in a while a book would light up with a soft blue glow. The light returned to hover above the stone. The number 136 flashed briefly in the light before it disappeared. The chosen books still glowed.

"What the hell was that?" Draco asked.

"The stone found 136 books containing both the words Dark Lord and creed. Let's get started."

"136 books! We can't check all of them before morning!"

"That is why I suggest we get started." Blaise strode elegantly over to the nearest shelf and pulled out a glowing book. The Book went dark. He flipped through the book until he came to a couple of pages that glowed. "See, it won't take as long as you think. All you have to do is check the glowing pages for whatever you are looking for. I would help, but you continue to be annoyingly vague."

Draco grabbed the book from the other boy and scanned the glowing pages before putting the book back on the shelf. "I keep telling you, I myself don't know. It is a creed; it will give me power; I want it that is enough."

Blaise huffed. "I'm going to bed." He left Draco to spend a tiresome night searching. But by dawn the next morning a very tired Draco stumbled back to the dorms with a triumphant smile on his face. He set his alarm to go off in time to join Harry at practice. Classes were not a appealing as his pillow at the moment.


	18. This Gets Harder Every Time

Harry sat in charms jotting down notes every once in a while, but, for the most part his mind was on more pressing problems. One, the nagging feeling that he was forgetting something simple, two, talking to Snape, it did not seem that today was going to be any easier than the last few. At least most of the Slytherins were leaving him alone now. The younger ones at least, the ones Harry knew to be Deatheaters were following him everywhere, even into the bathroom. He found it mildly disconcerting.

Draco also had a self-satisfied air about him. His long time rival had done something, and it didn't sit well with him. Harry shook his head and looked down at his notes. In his contemplations he had written the words 'prepare for every eventuality' across the top of the page. He chewed on his lip for a second trying not to freak out completely. It was rare that the Dark Goddess ever contacted him, and when she did her little tidbits of information were rarely helpful as vague as they always were. Right then, he thought, I'll just do a little snooping tonight.

Second problem talking to Snape. The man had been avoiding Harry ever since their minor confrontation in the dungeons. This made it very hard to talk to him. Harry soon found that Snape was _very_ good at disappearing. Harry thought for a moment. He obviously couldn't talk to Snape outside of his roll as student. He did have potions later that day. Harry supposed he could always blow something up, and keep blowing things up until Snape had to talk to him.

Now to dust all the cobwebs off of Salazar's old memories. There were plenty of course. Salazar had live a long life even after "leaving" Hogwarts. Harry reluctantly pushed aside memories of friends and family and set in on the information that had been gathered. He was looking for something to do with blood magic. He knew that much.

A hand shook his shoulder. Harry snapped back to reality to find Ron staring down at him with a peculiar look on his face. Harry Blinked; what did he do now? "Harry," Ron started slowly, "Salazar was pretty old when he died right?"

Harry blinked in confusion. "Yes, fairly old, two hundred something if I remember correctly."

Ron nodded and knelt down next to where his fried was sitting so that he could look him in the eye. This was not going to be good Harry decided. "Harry, today in class you seemed to be a little out of it."

Harry blinked again wondering where this was going. "No, I'm fine. I was only thinking about my current problems."

Ron brightened. "Oh, good. So you're not going senile on us."

Harry's jaw dropped. "That's not funny."

"Yes it is old man."

Harry frowned not taking the bait. He threw his bag over his shoulder and turned toward the door. "Come on we're going to be late for Professor Sternadel's class. He's supposed to be explaining ways to get rid of Lemmings."

"Excuse me," Ron blinked at his friend wondering why a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher would teach about rodents.

Harry smirked. "Lemmings are zombie-like suicide assassins. They attack in mass, very hard to get rid of."

Ron raised his eyebrow. "Why would that be useful?''

"They are for when you are fighting an enemy that holds a good defensive position." Harry said absently. "They swarm in no matter how many of them get killed."

Ron shook his head. It was weird that his best friend seemed to know more about magic than even Dumbledore. "Harry, how much of Salazar's life was spent with his nose in a book?"

Harry sucked on his lower lip. "A few hours here and there when Rowena wasn't present to play 'human encyclopedia', but mostly I was an explorer and experimenter. Most of the knowledge I have I've experienced first hand."

"Um, you're speaking in first person."

"Pardon."

"In the past it has always been 'as Salazar I was…' now you speak as if you are him now." Ron gestured helplessly at the empty air disconcerted by his own intuition. They walked in silence for a time.

Harry really didn't know what to say. Half realized fears of loosing himself to… well, himself surfaced all of a sudden nearly paralyzing him with fright. Was he slowly becoming someone else? He didn't notice too much of a difference, but with the emotions and memories of a man one thousand years dead flooding his head did Harry Potter really exist anymore. Harry shook his head determinedly. He was not going to worry about that. He had enough problems; he would just be, and if he changed that would be it. He was not loosing his sense of self. In fact he felt more whole than he ever had before.

"It is fine Ron," Harry finally answered. "I'm no one else but me."

Ron gave him a small smile and nodded his head; though he didn't understand at all he would trust his friend.

"Hey, you two wait up." Hermione ran up to them and stopped on the other side of Harry hefting her bag on her shoulder. The straps groaned in protest. "How was Charms?"

"Fun, Harry was staring off into space the whole time so professor Flitwick used him to demonstrate the color changing principal."

"He did what?" Harry asked looking down at himself to make sure everything was as it should be.

"Turns out it was the same thing we used to prank the entire school a while back." Ron continued ignoring Harry.

"You mean when you turned me baby blue." Hermione deadpanned.

"Yep." Ron answered cheerfully.

Professor Sternadel was an excellent professor. Harry hoped that he actually stayed. Once the professor had even woken the class up from a stupor by climbing up on his desk and then stepping off air walking over the heads of his class never stopping his lecture. Not that the lectures were boring by any means. Sternadel tended to paint stick pictures with his wand while explaining the characteristics of dark creatures and casting illusions of himself demonstration wand motions and effects of the spells he taught.

Today they watched an illusion of Lemmings attacking a castle. It was a spectacular sight. Lemmings did not resemble the muggle rodent at all; in fact they were very human like besides the lemming mentality and the fact that they could unhinge their jaws and eat almost anything. Even Harry was very impressed by the lecture. He even took notes. The fact that all the notes were on Professor Sternadel's teaching style and not the information itself went unnoticed.

Class ended with the professor reminding his class to write a six inch summery of what they learned today. Harry thought that a good idea, and so did Sternadel because the homework was the same at the end of every class period.

"Hurry up." He said to his friends. "I want to get to potions early. I have to talk to Snape." His friends looked at him like he had lost his mind.

The three of them got to the potions room about ten minutes before class began. Harry dropped his books on the table where he and Ron worked before making his way up the aisle to where Snape was sitting at his desk. He put on his best respectful face. "Professor," he said. Without a glance Snape got up and left. Harry narrowed his eyes. "Damn him," he spat after Snape had left kicking the front of the desk. "This is war. I will not be ignored." He smiled back Ron and Hermione, who looked a little alarmed. "Time for Plan B."

"What's Plan B?" Hermione asked chewing on her finger nails. She was torn between interest and anxiety. Harry had had some really odd ball ideas before. Now… she expected nothing less than absolute chaos. Hermione sighed. She just hoped no one got hurt.

"Blow shit up."

Ron grinned. "Sounds like fun."

"Boys," Hermione groaned.

Class started out simply enough. Professor Snape came in on the tails of the last group of students and barked at everyone to brew the potion on page 143. He then sat down at his desk and commenced to glare at everyone in the room. Harry and Ron gathered their ingredients from the supply cabinet; Harry managed to shove a few extra ingredients into his robes before returning to his seat.

Ron began to cut the roots needed in the first step, while eyeing Harry warily. Harry haphazardly threw the ingredients he had in his robes into the already bubbling caldron with a manic gleam in his eyes. _ This can not be good_. Ron thought, holding the roots in a shaky hand over the caldron. Harry nodded his head in encouragement before leaning down to sift through his bag. Ron squinched his eyes shut and pulled back as far a possible, then reluctantly dropped in the roots.

Nothing happened. Ron blinked. He had expected something more spectacular. He shrugged and opened a bottle of Unicorn Water and pored it into the mix. The bubbly mix stilled instantly the surface turning glassy and smooth. Ron quickly took two steps back not sure what to do.

Harry popped up from his bag with another bottle in his hand. He glanced at the caldron and nodded. "Oh Professor," He called out into the surprisingly quiet dungeon.

"What is it now Potter?" Snape snapped.

"I think something is wrong with our potion."

Snape glared at Harry and strode over to the caldron muttering about incompetence and pedigree under his breath. He looked down at the glassy mixture and frowned. His eyes snapped up to meet Harry's. Ron took that as his queue and began to slowly back away. "What is the meaning of this?" Snape growled. He then noticed the little bottle in Harry's hand. "You wouldn't dare."

With big innocent eyes Harry asked. "Dare what Professor?" As he said this he tipped the bottle into the potion eyes never leaving Snape's face, never loosing that innocent look.

The caldron exploded showering liquid all over the dungeon classroom. A few people got sprinkled with the liquid, but most stayed as they had started to inch toward the door at Snape's 'You wouldn't dare.' A few laughed nervously and started back to their now soaked work benches. Suddenly the room burst into flames. The class stampeded out of the room in a frenzied rush, screaming.

Harry did not move; neither did Snape. The latter was glowering. Blue white flames danced all around them and on them. Harry reached down into his caldron and scooped out a flaming handful of liquid and threw it at Snape. The Potions Master didn't even flinch as the flames slid down his robes.

"What is the meaning of this, Potter?" He grit out.

"You have been avoiding me." Harry said splashing some more of the flame across the room. There was no need for a panic. The fire that Harry had created was Ghostflame. It only burned the liquid that was its accelerant, or perhaps an unlucky ghost. Salazar had used it to make mage lights all those years ago. He smiled at the memory of throwing a bucket full of the stuff on Godric. The idiot hadn't had a clue.

Snape scowled at the smile mistaking its meaning. "This is no laughing matter, Potter. I have not been avoiding you."

"That's a lie. I can feel it. Not that you haven't been obvious about it storming out when I came into talk to you before class." Harry frowned and threw another handful of flame into the air. "Are you afraid of me, or perhaps, disappointed? Is the 'Great Salazar Slytherin not what you expected him to be?"

Snape's eyes narrowed. "If your story is to be believed Salazar Slytherin was about as powerful as a kitten…"

"You forget so easily the void magic I used in the Headmaster's office. I appear harmless because I choose to. Do not push me Professor." Harry cocked his head to the side listening to the voices coming closer to the room. He frowned. He couldn't afford interruptions. Snape was a surprisingly hard man to corner. Harry waved his wand at the door and reinforced it before putting a locking charm on it. "We need to talk."

Snape raised a brow. "Indeed?"

"Yes," Harry said without preamble. "When you were in school here you invented a potion. Something I believe has to do with blood magic."

Snape looked at him in shock. "How did you know about that?"

"I have my ways." Harry edged. Snape glared at him. "What was that potion?"

Snape sighed. Getting answers out of the boy was like pulling teeth. "It was a replacement for the blood in Blood Magic."

Harry frowned. Would it still be considered Blood Magic if there was no blood in the spell? He wondered. "But different spells need different kinds of blood. How would one potion fill all those needs?"

"There are incantations that can be used to change the properties of the potion to those that are needed."

Harry was impressed. He held back the urge to demand all of Snape's notes. Blood Magic was not one of his specialties, but with this kind of encouragement it could become one. Then the implications of what Snape said hit him. "Why would Voldemort use my blood if he had this potion at hand? Surely you mentioned it to him."

Snape rubbed his eyes. Harry had been taking the conversation in a direction he had not anticipated from the beginning. It was making his head hurt trying to follow the boy's leaps of logic. "I did, but my Lord is of the vindictive type. Only your blood would satisfy his twisted sense of justice."

"Voldemort has a sense of justice? Amazing."

"He will get revenge on all those he is convinced have wronged him. Tell me Potter, why is this so important."

Harry held his breath. Should he tell Snape about his suspicions? To this day he was not completely sure whose side Snape was on, no matter what Dumbledore said. "It is pertinent to the destruction of Voldemort that is all you need to know." Snape snorted. You still haven't told me what the potion is for. It replaces the blood in a blood spell, but to what effect?"

Snape shrugged. "It is easier to get than blood, especially if you need a certain kind. For example, the blood of a virgin is getting harder and harder to find now days. It also negates the particular flaw inherent in blood spells."

Harry snapped his fingers. "Duh, you idiot. I can't believe you forgot that." Harry scolded himself. "Thanks professor you have been a great help." He smiled cheekily at Snape before waving his hand at the door. It burst open.

McGonagall and the Headmaster entered the room first. Dumbledore looked around him at the dancing blue flames. "What is going on in here?" McGonagall demanded.

"Oh, there is no danger," Dumbledore said, a twinkle in his eye. "But I would like to talk to you in my office if I may, Harry."

"Of course Headmaster," Harry said meekly. Snape looked at him in surprise. All the dominance the boy had been displaying before was gone. Harry looked like any other teen who knew he was in trouble.

"Headmaster," McGonagall queried. "Shouldn't I be the one to handle this as his head of house?"

"No Professor, this is something I need to handle personally." Dumbledore gave Harry a knowing look and turned toward door. Harry followed behind. They walked in silence all the way to the Headmaster's office. Harry sat in one of the offered chairs in front of the fire and Dumbledore sat across from him. Dumbledore sat in the chair across from him and waved his wand and a tea service appeared. Harry took the offered tea thinking furiously. He could sense the veritasurem in the tea, but it hardly mattered. He had more important matters to worry about; Dumbledore's piercing gaze for one. Harry knew that this talk was inevitable. It had been only a matter of time before he was called in for a "heart to heart" talk with the Headmaster.

At the moment Dumbledore seemed quite willing to let Harry stew. For himself Harry took the time to organize his thoughts. Time was on his side. The longer he could think the better his answers would be when the Headmaster started to ask questions.

"I assume that you are the one at fault for the ghost fire?" Dumbledore asked abruptly.

"Yes sir"

Dumbledore blinked. He had not expected a blatant admission. "How did you know how to make it?"

Harry shrugged. "I found it in a book" one thousand plus years ago, he finished silently. "It sounded cool." It was in fact one of Salazar Slytherin's favorite toys.

"I see," Dumbledore said not even trying to sound cheerful. Harry took that as a bad sign. "Harry I am very worried. You have not been yourself since the accident earlier this year." Dumbledore caught Harry with his piercing blue eyes. "Tell me Harry, What happened that night?"

"I already told you what happened that night, Headmaster." Harry sipped his tea once more. "Nothing has changed in the past."

Dumbledore gave Harry a considering look. "So evasive." He pulled his wand from his large, bell sleeve. "It seems I have no choice." He began to chant under his breath. Harry froze as the spell flowed over him. It was a dark spell. Harry couldn't believe that Dumbledore would use dark magic on him. "There that should do the trick."

"Why?"

Dumbledore smiled sadly. "I'm sorry Harry, but if you won't tell me what I need to know you are going to have to be watched. The spell will tell me when you use magic, whether it is light or dark, and what spell it is."

Harry shot up from his seat. "Have you so little faith in me? Do you think that I'm going to join Voldemort?" Harry stormed toward the door.

"Harry," the Headmaster called from behind him. "Getting rid of Voldemort is a very admirable goal, but we have to be careful how we do it. People would not be understanding if we started to use the very ideology we fight against. You have been rather unstable of late."

Harry glared at Dumbledore and turned on his heal. He slammed the door behind him and stormed all the way back to the dormitory. Dumbledore's little spell made things much harder. Harry could not move freely while his magic usage was being watched. He would have to bide his time before striking at Voldemort. Regretfully, it seemed that Dumbledore had become one of the enemies. The old pain of having a friend turn against him rose in his chest. The chances of him being kicked out of the school again were frighteningly good.

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Harry spent the next month and a half limiting all of his magic to school work. The whole time his mind was planning furiously. He assumed that at some point Dumbledore had also put a tracking spell on him. Thankfully he knew how to make a shadow of himself that the tracking spell would attach itself to. He did not feel like having the Headmaster show up during one of his training sessions with Ron and Draco. Headmaster had been popping up everywhere else in order to "Check up on him." Harry felt that he was being kept in a cage.

The last weekend before Christmas was a Hoggsmeade weekend. It was nice to get out of the castle. The sky was the bright watery blue that only seemed to appear in the heart of winter, and the ground was covered in enough snow to coat the ground but was not too difficult to walk through. Harry walked down the street next to Ron and Hermione. His two friends were holding hands and standing most would say inappropriately close together. Harry only smiled at his friends' budding relationship pretending to be deep in thought so that they could steal a kiss every once in a while. The trio was making its way to the Three Broomsticks to warm up with a bottle of butterbeer, and in Harry's and Ron's case try to sneak a peak at the presents Hermione had bought them earlier after all but telling the two boys to get lost.

They had just reached the Three Broomsticks and were turning off the road to the entrance when a flurry of activity erupted behind them. The first thing that alerted Harry that something was wrong was a man's scream and then the sound of a body hitting the ground. He turned quickly to and began to run in the direction of the scream when he heard a loud crash behind him. A hapless pedestrian had been slammed by a magical force into a nearby building. Harry whipped around to see Lavender Brown's bright blue cloak over a snow drift. It was then that he lost all sense. A knife appeared in his right hand out of thin air and he leapt at the man in the black cloak and white mask. Deatheaters, he thought as he pushed a concentrated amount of pure destructive magic through the knife as he sliced into the Deatheater's robes. The Deatheater's arm and right side of his body turned to ash. "Ron, Hermione," he called. Both his friends appeared at his side and Harry pushed his dagger into Ron's hand knowing that the other boy had yet to start carrying a blade. Ron started to protest but was silenced as another knife flickered into existence in Harry's hand.

"Hermione," Harry continued without pause. "I need you to get back to the castle warn the teachers, get Dumbledore, and somehow warn the fucking Order." Hermione nodded and dashed off responding to the command in Harry's voice as it broke through her fear. "Ready Ron," Harry said over his shoulder a feral gleam in his eye.

At Ron's reluctant nod Harry turned and leapt into battle. All of his carefully laid plans disappearing like so much smoke on the wind. How dare these fools attack so closely to _his _school? He dodged an Avada Kedavra and flicked his wand at the Deatheater causing a shower of blood to stain the snow.

Harry glanced up and down the street, and then slipped into an ally. He didn't care for Voldemort to find out about his sudden ability to use dark magic. He initiated the change that would turn him into Arisa. A quick transformation of clothes later she bolted out of the ally and turned a group of Deatheaters into dust. Harry found Ron fighting off two of the Deatheaters. He sprinted over and slashed through the arm of the Deatheater who had his wand pointed at Ron. He went down with a scream clutching his bleeding appendage.

Ron stabbed the other man up under the ribs and pushed him back into the snow to die. He then looked up at Arisa suspiciously. The beautiful woman dressed in red robes so dark that it looked black in shadow. Ron recognized the knife in the woman's hand as Harry's. He saw red for a moment and advanced on the woman. Arisa only took one step back. "Ron, you have seen me fight. Do you really think one of these pathetic excuses for fighter would be able to take my knife away from me, let alone use it?" Ron's jaw dropped. "Thought so." Arisa spun on her heel and took off. "Stay close." She called over her shoulder. Ron shook his head in disbelief and jogged after the woman who was apparently his best friend.

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I'm going to stop there or this chapter is never going to get up. I'm not good at writing about a lot of action. There will be more in the next chapter; I'm not finished with this yet, but I figured it had been long enough since my last update. So, we are left with a cliff hanger.


	19. Battles

Harry ran through the streets, cloak flapping behind him killing Deatheaters as he went. Ron's presence at his side was comforting even though the other boy kept throwing him suspicious looks, which Harry ignored. He knew that Voldemort would only send his most trusted Deatheaters in an attack on Hoggsmeade. If he was right this would be the perfect time for revenge.

Harry stopped suddenly near the end of the street. Ron ran into his back jolting him forward. Harry grabbed Ron by his robes pulling him into an alley. "What the hell? Harry what are you doing?"

"Hush, Draco is over there fighting with his father." Harry said pointing to where Draco was indeed squaring off with a deatheater. Harry noticed Draco tremble a bit.

"How can you tell that's his dad and not some other deatheater?"

"Because Draco knows it is."

"Huh?"

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Draco licked his lips nervously. He had expected at least a year to go by before he had to confront his father. Fate had other plans it seemed. He bent to draw his knife from where he kept it in his boot.

"Such a disgrace," his father's voice intoned from behind the mask. "You actually plan to kill me with that?" Lucius Malfoy drew his sword-cane.

Draco grimaced. He was sure he wasn't ready for this. He stepped forward and dropped into a defensive stance waiting for his father to give him an opening. His palms were sweaty, but he was determined to keep a cool detached expression on his face. This would be the first time he had fought someone for real. Draco had no illusions. He could very well die here. His father lunged forward aiming to slash Draco across the chest. Draco dodged the blow and lashed out striking his father on the arm ripping the robe and drawing a thin line of blood.

Lucius Malfoy ripped off his deatheater mask. Rage filled his pale blue eyes. "You would dare to fight me, you ungrateful little brat!" He stormed forward and swung his sword fully expecting Draco to fall to the snow bleeding. Draco did fall to the snow, but he rolled under the blade and regained his feet to his father's right. A look of momentary surprise crossed Lucius' face before he turned to face his son, his stance a little wearier.

Draco was congratulating himself on still being alive. His father was an expert swordsman after all. He was lucky that his father had underestimated him. Perhaps he would again, but chances were slim. Draco feinted left before diving in under Lucious' guard to graze his thigh. Lucius turned and slashed downward as Draco passed. Draco felt the sword connect and rip through his heavy school robes. Draco was glad he was wearing his winter cloak. Both the fabric of the cloak and his shirt were ripped along his back. He could feel the chill wind on his skin. He had barely gotten away from that. Draco knew he could not last long. He needed a plan and he needed one fast.

Lucius Malfoy attacked again. This time he hit Draco in the shoulder. Draco screamed and grabbed the wound. His mind momentarily went blank with pain. It was enough for Lucius to get to his wand and point it at him. "Crucio," The pain was excruciating. He fell to the ground, and his back arched until he thought it would break. Only after a few seconds his throat hurt from screaming.

This had to be one of his stupider ideas. He should have slipped away and headed back to the castle when the attack began. Draco was no fool and knew that he was not a fighter. He was better at fighting from a distance with his wand. His father released the curse and Draco could think again. _Wand, I still have that right. _Draco reached into his robes and pulled out his wand. He was careful to hide it under his body where the elder Malfoy could not see it. Draco looked up intending to strike his father with a blasting curse, but was hit with Crucio once again.

This time the spell did not let up. Draco waited for his chance to strike in an eternity of agony. Later Harry would claim that his next move was a very brave thing to do. Draco would maintain that he had been driven temporarily insane under the influence of Crucio. His hand brushed over his knife that he had dropped on the ground when he was first hit by the curse. Without thinking or even aiming he threw the knife in a fit of desperation.

The curse suddenly released him and he fell to the ground gulping in as much air as he could. Again with out much thought Draco pointed his wand at his father. "_Deflaratio_!" Lightning shot out of the wand and hit his father. The spell was said with considerable force and electrical energy washed over Lucius Malfoy's body several times.

Draco grimaced at the smell of burnt flesh. He tried not to look at the charred, half-melted face. Lucius Malfoy was dead. Draco promptly vomited onto the ground. He heard footsteps come up behind him. He whipped around with his wand ready to curse whoever it was into oblivion.

Harry grabbed his arm and twisted before he could do anything more. "Good job there Blondie." He said with a smile. "That spell did come in handy didn't it? I'm almost glad you made me teach it to you."

Draco glared up at Harry from his position on his knees. He pushed to his feet using a tight grip on the front of Harry's robes for leverage. Once secure, he pushed back on the other boy. "Who the hell are you?"

Harry frowned puzzled for a moment. "Oh," he grinned. "It's me, Harry." Draco only glared at him. "Really, I swear on Gryffindor's honor."

"You're a woman." Draco bit out enunciating every word as if speaking to a child.

Harry only smiled and giggled. "Of course I am now."

Draco huffed in annoyance and wrapped what was left of his robes around his frame wincing as a cold breeze hit his bare back through the slash. He lifted his nose into the air and flounced off in the opposite direction from Harry. "You are obviously not worth my time." He went strait for the Order wizards that had started flooding the streets.

Harry shook his head. "Idiot's going to get a knife in the back one of these days." He muttered to Ron who nodded in agreement. Harry raised his voice calling out sweetly, "I would get that slash mark on your back looked at soon. It may scar." An indignant squawk was her answer. Harry turned to Ron. "Come on. We have to hurry before the Order gets 'control' of the situation." He took off at a dead run. Ron followed behind shaking his head. Harry obviously had a score to settle with someone that he knew was here.

Harry quickly worked his way passed the parts of the town that the self proclaimed "good guys" now controlled. _There,_ he thought in anticipation as he came upon a group of deatheaters. One Deatheater in particular caught his attention. This one wore the same dark robes and mask as its cohorts, but it was shorter and slenderer than the rest. "Bellatrix!"

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Bellatrix turned in surprise at hearing her name called out by a feminine voice. She started at the woman standing in the middle of the street a knife in one hand and a wand in the other. Eyes glowing with murderous intent. _My, my, my_, Bellatrix thought. _What have we here?_ She calmly detached herself from the other deatheaters and came to stand not ten feet from the seething woman. "What atrocities are you going to charge me with little bird? What wrong have I done to you and yours?" She asked in a mocking voice.

The woman smiled an unholy smile of glee. "One crime of a thousand matters not. All you need to know is that today you die."

Bellatrix arched one delicate eyebrow. Why wasn't the little minx cowering in terror? Bellatrix Had certainly made greater wizards than this waif cower by her mere presence. She did not recognize the other woman. That was strange. Bellatrix could remember every face that she had made contort in fear or pain. She took pleasure in remembering them, but this girl was a new face. She certainly would have remembered a young beauty like this one.

Bellatrix raised her wand prepared to use avada kedavra to dispose of the minor annoyance. The girl scowled in disdain and threw her knife hitting Bellatrix's wand hand. Bellatrix screamed and dropped her wand. She clutched her now bleeding hand to her chest. "You little bitch!" She rasped.

The girl only smirked and raised her wand. Bellatrix rolled to the side just as a burst of light flew at her. She cursed silently once more grabbing her wand and pointing it at the girl. She cast a binding spell. The girl choked in surprise.

Since the target was now immobile Bellatrix took her time standing up and straitening her robes. She removed her mask and ran her left hand through her hair. There was a wicked smile on her face. "Now," she said in a prim tone to the girl. "Who are you?"

The girl grimaced. "You are a stupid bitch. You know who I am. I did gatecrash one of your precious Deatheater meetings. I know you were there."

Bellatrix scowled. So this was the one who dared to challenge Voldemort. "Yes, I remember. You called yourself Arisa."

"Yeah, I did." Arisa struggled with the binding managing to stretch it with her will.

Bellatrix frowned. She did not like the disrespect that Arisa showed her. She liked it even less that the girl seemed to have no fear of her. "Crucio," Bellatrix growled. Arisa fell to her knees. Bellatrix smiled. That was more like it. She always enjoyed it when her victims were on their knees.

Bellatrix threw her head back to laugh, but ended up gasping in pain as she fell onto her side in the muddy, trampled snow. Her hand went to her side where a warm wetness was soaking into her robes. She looked up to see a pale, red haired teen standing over her with a bloody knife in his hands.

Arisa pulled herself up off the ground and took her wand in her hand once more. Bellatrix saw the barely contained rage in the young woman's eyes as the wand was pointed strait at her. Arisa choked out a word that was surely not meant to be spoken with human vocal cords. Bellatrix's world dissolved into pain, then an eternity later blackness.

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Ron stumbled back as the deatheater at his feet began to melt. He watched in horror as the flesh bubbled up and receded into the bones. Long dark hair crackled as if it had been burned. When the bones started to turn to ash Ron was brought back to the world by his stomach rebelling at the smell of burnt flesh.

Harry, as Harry, knelt down next to his best friend. "You think that was a little over the top?" Harry asked.

Incredulous, Ron turned to star at him. "That was disgusting." He wiped his mouth. "How could you have done that?''

Harry shrugged nonchalantly. "I wanted revenge for Sirius." He grimaced. "I hope he doesn't mind too much about the how."

Ron opened his mouth to reply, but never got the chance. "Mr. Potter," Dumbledore walked up to the two kneeling boys. "What did you do?"

Harry blanched at the accusation in the headmaster's voice. He had known that the spell that monitored his use of magic was still in effect, and Dumbledore now knew for a fact that Harry could not only do dark magic, but dark magic that has been banned for millennia. "What I thought was necessary." Harry deadpanned.

Dumbledore looked at him sadly over his half-moon glasses. "Harry," he began in a grave voice.

"No, don't give me that self-righteous speech about good and evil. I've heard it all before. I warned you not to get in my way."

"Harry you are being irrational. Dark magic corrupts the user. Come with me and we can help you." Dumbledore held out his hand look of compassion and understanding on his face. The Aurors standing behind him held their wands at the ready.

Ron took in the scene and could not keep himself from gulping loudly. He looked toward his best friend. Betrayal pinched Harry's features. He stared into Ron's eyes hoping for understanding. Ron inclined his head in understanding. Harry shot a withering glare at the headmaster and apparated.

Dumbledore jumped in shock. The tracking and monitoring spells he had placed on Harry and carefully maintained snapped and hit him with the backlash. He walked up beside Ron and placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. Ron shook the hand off sure to the core of his being that he would never see his friend again.


	20. Filler Inner

Harry slammed the door to his –Salazar Slytherin's- personal hideaway. He had not apparated far from the school. In fact he was in the Forbidden Forrest. The homey little cottage was folded between time and space, only accessible to the outside world from the space between two trees that were barely two feet apart. It had been so long since he had had to use the place that it took him two tries to get through the trees. The first time he had been facing the wrong direction.

Salazar had retreated to this lonely place in the forest the first time he had been run out of Hogwarts. He spent months nursing a broken heart and fighting back the instinct to take revenge on his friends. He had eventually gone back to Hogwarts and even became the headmaster, sort of… History never told, but Headmistress Arisa Valentine had in fact been Salazar Slytherin.

Inside the cottage there wasn't a speck of dust. The well maintained front room had a single chair facing a small fireplace. Bookshelves lined all four of the walls. Thick carpets covered the wooden floor haphazardly except around the small stove and cooking/potion making area in the corner. Harry sighed and flung his cloak onto the chair. He wondered if the tea would still be good after a thousand years. He fished around in the pantry until he found the jar he was looking for. Breaking the preservation seal he leaned down and sniffed the contents. The tea was fine. He took a moment to congratulate himself on casting a spell that had lasted so long.

Harry went about his business not knowing that he had completely dropped the act of a shy, emotionally abused teenage boy. The strong will and determination that Harry had always had were still there, but Salazar Slytherin was not one to stay a victim for long. He pondered for a moment, going back to Hogwarts and challenging Dumbledore to a duel. He would win of course and set himself up as the headmaster. He could just damn (quite literally) anyone who got in his way. He smiled ruefully. There was no way he would fit himself to the mold of The Boy Who Lived and so will not fit himself to the centuries old lie of a power hungry megalomaniac. He had been power hungry sure, but Salazar had had a more discerning pallet than world domination could satisfy. Power was not something one could hold, but a game to be played, pure and simple. Those who were said to have power played the game well; those who didn't did not.

Harry's right to be at Hogwarts would have to take second place behind destroying Voldemort. He took down a book on telekinesis without even thinking about it. The darkness had her own way of pointing him in the right direction. Everything from a gentle nudge to a hearty push off a cliff, literally. Harry flipped randomly through the pages until one caught his eye. He was not surprised to see that it was the chapter that crossed telekinesis with blood magic. Another of the forbidden arts: cross different areas of magic.

Harry sat in the chair, waved his hand to start a fire in the fire place, and began to read. The beginnings of a plan started to form in his mind.

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Draco walked through the library with a frown on his face. He had killed his father and that was great, a real adrenaline high, but no one seemed to be able to keep up a pleasant or even tolerable mood the past couple of days. Not even the delusional Hufflepuffs could pretend that nothing was going on. It was like there was a cloud of gloom hanging over the castle that one could almost see. The torches were dimmer and the halls were actually dusty. It had gotten so bad that the house elves responsible for the dusting could be seen at work during the daylight hours.

Draco found that the only way he could get through the day without doing real violence was to suppress all emotion as he was doing no. He had more important things to do than give in to the prevailing mood of the castle and everyone in it. He rounded the end of a shelf and walked into one of the more secluded study alcoves. Colin Creevy was waiting impatiently at the table tapping his foot in annoyance. The very sight of the boy made Draco's vision go red. "Stop that." He snapped. "What have you got for me this time? And it better be good."

"The Gryffindors are pissed." The boy answered with uncharacteristic venom.

"Everyone is."

"Not like this. A fight breaks out in the tower every five minutes. Ron storms around ranting about how the Headmaster is a self-righteous bastard, and Hermione slaps anyone that comes with in range."

"So."

"So Harry is gone."

Draco stared at the other boy. "Gone. As in packed his shit and left?" He frowned at his use of language. He was really more cultured than that.

"No, the 'shit' is still there, but Ron says Harry isn't coming back that it's all Dumbledore's fault. There are also rumors that the Aurors are not here to protect the school, but to arrest Harry if he shows up again."

Draco processed that bit of information. "That's insane. Dumbledore announced publicly that Harry had been kidnapped by Deatheaters."

"Not from Ron's version of events. He was there, you know. He said that Harry started to scream at Dumbledore and then apparated."

Draco was angry now. "That little shit left! I'll kill him." With that he stormed off.

"You're welcome for the information Your Highness." The sarcastic parting shot rang in Draco's ears. He quickened his pace and practically ran to the Slytherin common room before he turned around and pummeled the smaller Gryffindor. It would not do to be in detention now. He had plans to make.

He walked into the common room only to see his least favorite thing, people. Pansy and Blaise to be exact. They were both studiously ignoring each other. It was obvious that they had had another fight, about him no doubt.

"Oh, Draco." Pansy whined in her high pitched voice when she saw him.

Draco winced. "I'm not in the mood to put up with you right now, Pansy. You either Blaise." He added as the boy smiled smugly at Draco's comment. Deciding that he would not be able to deal with the other two vying for his attention Draco did an about face and left.

"What was that all about?" Pansy asked bewildered. "Where is he going?"

"He's gone to workout."

Pansy sniffed. "You say that like Malfoy and work belong in the same sentence."

"You misunderstand." Blaise appraised Pansy's decidedly plump figure.   
"But then you would. He has gone to tone up all those beautiful, lean muscles that make him, quite frankly, the sexiest thing to walk the halls of Hogwarts."

Blaise was right of course. Draco headed strait for the Room of Requirement. After a short but intense warm-up he spent and hour on the weight machines. First he had thought that the muggle contraption laughable, but then he had seen the results. It had pleased him.

He was running around the track trying to work out the frustration building just below the surface of his skin when the door opened. Ron walked in and gave Draco an appraising look. Without a word Draco went to his discarded robes and pulled out the knife he had taken to carrying.

Ron pulled out his own knife. Both of them faced off on the mat. Both knew that there would be blood this time.

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The castle was at a loss as to what to do. Her present mood was not at all hospitable and it was infecting her inhabitants. It would not worry her greatly if it were not for the two now facing off in a death match. Those two were always volatile when put together, like lithium and water. She watched in horror as her pet's best friend slashed into the blond boy. Blood splattered onto the mat. Outside the Room of requirement Professor Snape was making his rounds. The castle would have clapped if she could.

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Professor Snape was in a rare mood. He knew that most of the frustration and anger was due to an outside source, but he saw the situation as a golden opportunity. A good twenty percent of the student population had detention of some kind and at least ten percent of that twenty was given out by him alone. He was in a horrible mood and really wanted to torture some of the second years, but he learned long ago that beggars can't be choosers.

He stalked the halls every hour looking for unlucky students to terrorize. It was all fun and games in his opinion. Snape was very surprised when a doorway suddenly appeared on his left. He stopped to stare at it for a minute. He was about to move on, uninterested, when he heard a grunt and what sounded like a body falling to the floor.

Curiosity got the better of him, and he opened the door to two of his students trying to kill each other. He stared in shock, and then gathered his wits enough to start screaming. "Weasely, Malfoy, what the hell do you think you are doing?" Both boys stopped mid-charge to star at their seething potions professor. Neither seemed to be the least bit contrite, in fact, they looked angry at being interrupted. Snape was livid. "One hundred points from Gryffindor. One hundred points from Slytherin, Headmaster's office, now!" Both boys scowled at Professor Snape, but moved to obey. Being no idiot Snape took his wand from his robes. "Drop the knives." He ordered pointing the wand at the boys. They dropped the knives to the mat, and made their way to the Headmaster's office with Snape right behind them wand at the ready. To the other students it seemed that Ron and Draco were prisoners being escorted through the school.

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Headmaster Dumbledore sat behind his desk doing absolutely nothing, to the untrained eye. To anyone who knew what to look for Dumbledore was thinking hard. The wrinkles at his eyes were bunched in a stare of intense concentration. Every once in a while his right hand would twitch as if wanting to do something, specifically to stop the madness that had overcome the school. He was bending all of his considerable will into not splitting his desk apart with a lightening bolt, when Snape "escorted" Ronald Weasely and Draco Malfoy into his office at wand point.

"Severus, what is the meaning of this?" He glared at the potions master. He then glanced at the two boys and belatedly noted that both of them were bleeding. "Why are they not in the hospital wing?"

Unperturbed Snape pushed the students forward. Both boys had scowls on their faces. "These two were trying to kill each other in the Room of Requirement." Snape explained. "I thought that they would need to be punished for fighting, with knives no less."

"Knives? Where would they learn how to wield knives?"

"Harry taught us." Draco grimaced as Ron stepped on his foot for that comment. "But then you already knew that didn't you?"

"No, I did not."

"Then why else have him chased out of the school?" Draco flared.

"You were there, Mr. Malfoy. Harry used some very questionable magic to kill the Deatheaters that attacked Hoggsmeade." Dumbledore stood. "Mr. Potter is a danger to this school and those within it."

"Yeah, right," Ron yelled. "He's saved this school so many times just so he can kill us all later. Harry's doing what he thinks is right. He only left because you gave him no choice, and don't think that I haven't noticed that the bad mood the school has been in started right after Harry left. You screwed up." By the end of his speech Ron was standing right in front of Dumbledore jabbing his finger into the old man's chest. He whirled around and stormed for the door. Draco followed behind him. Snape surprisingly stood aside and let them pass, only raising an eyebrow at the headmaster.

Out in the hall Draco sighed. "I defiantly missed something out there. Did the headmaster really throw Harry out of the school?"

Ron shook his head. "No, but what would have happened if Harry had come back with him would have been worse."

"Sorry I missed that."

"Why? You're not Harry's friend."

Draco pinned the taller boy with a stare. "Information is the greatest weapon of all." Both boys were silent the rest of the way to the hospital wing.

Later Ron was sitting on his bed alone in the sixth year dorm reading a comic book when he heard a tapping on the window sill. He peered out the window at the night but saw nothing that could account for the noise. He was about to turn around when the tapping sounded again. Confused Ron opened the window. He jumped back in fright when a part of the night condensed into the shape of a bird. He quickly got a grip on himself. The only person who could possibly do this was Harry. He cautiously held his hand out to the bird and it flapped silent wings landing on Ron's outstretched arm. He felt nothing. If he was not looking at the bird perched on his arm he would have sworn that nothing was there, and he was holding out his arm like an idiot.

Then Ron noticed the slim piece of parchment inside the bird's chest where the heart would be. It seemed to be held in place by pieces of thread. His brain stuttered for a moment. This was a difficult spell, and a really cool one. He still had no idea what to do. He reached out to touch the bird on the head, but his hand went strait through it. Ron blinked. He reached out again, this time for the paper. His finger brushed the edge of the parchment. He pinched his fingers around the parchment and, the bird dissolved instantaneously. He felt a momentary sadness for the loss of the bird. But the parchment became much more interesting when he reorganized Harry's writing.

_Meet me at the edge of the forest on the far side of the lake tomorrow at 2:30 a.m._

Ron flipped it over there was nothing else on it.

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Harry waited patiently at the tree line of the Forbidden Forest. There was no moon in the sky and only the light from a few of the window broke the black of the night. Harry liked the night. He always had, though he preferred a full moon over a new moon. Even if he would never have a privet meeting on the night of a full moon; it made things too visible. With his newly acquired vampire sight there wasn't even a need for any light. _Except maybe one_, he thought as a pinpoint of light headed in his general direction. _That would be Ron. _

Harry stepped out of the trees as Ron came nearer. "Over here," he called softly. The light stopped then turned toward him. "Where you followed?"

"How would I know?" Ron hissed.

"Never mind that, put out your wand and take my hand."

Ron paused for a moment then shrugged. "Nox." The light went out. Harry grabbed his hand and apparated. When he felt the night air around him again Ron spoke up. "Can I use the light again?"

"Yes"

"Lumos." Ron moved his wand around trying to get a grip on his bearings. "Where are we?"

"In the western corner of the Forbidden Forest."

"Really."

"Yes, I have a hideout here."

"You mean that Salazar Slytherin has a hideout here."

"Same thing."

Harry led Ron through the two trees.

"Cool."

"I'm glad you like it."

Harry led Ron through the front door. Ron looked around with interest. "Cozy, but why am I here?"

"I need your help."

"With what?"

"There is a location spell that I need to do that takes two people, and I also need you to watch my back."

Ron ginned. "Okay, I'm in." A look of consternation crossed his face. "What about 'Mione?"

Harry froze. "Ummm."

"We have to have her here too." Ron practically screamed. "She's going to be pissed if we leave her out. She'll kill you." Ron ran his hands through his hair dramatically. "Me, I don't even want to know what she'll do to me. I am her boyfriend after all. I have obligations."

Harry hunched over. "I forgot." He whispered. He was not going to tell Ron who would then tell Hermione that he had slipped into Salazar's one thousand year old way of thinking, and deemed Hermione, as a young woman, too fragile for what he had planned. Ron would have tolled Hermione to save his own skin, and then Harry would be dead for sure. "Ummm. This never happened. We go back to Hogwarts; you get Hermione and come back." Ron nodded feverishly.


	21. Practice Makes Perfect

Twenty minutes later the three of them Ron, Hermione, and Harry were sitting on the floor of the cabin around the fire. Hermione had a book open before her studying the location spell Harry had shown her. It looked rather uncomplicated to the untrained eye, and in fact it was, if there were two people casting it. "This is interesting," Hermione ran her finger over the spell. "This spell would be almost impossible to cast for one person, but with two it becomes a spell that any fourth year would be able to cast. Though it will still exhaust you, Harry, you said that the amount of energy drained depends on how long the spell is active?"

"Yes."

Hermione nodded. "Then wouldn't it be better to add a third person to the mix?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Are you suggesting that we mess with an ancient, powerful spell that you know practically nothing about?" Hermione snorted. "I knew I would convert you." Harry smiled at her.

Hermione ignored him. "Theoretically it should be easy. All we have to do is split the spell into thirds." She looked at Harry. "Do you have all the necessary components?"

Harry nodded. "My kitchen pantry is akin to The Room of Requirement. It should be able to come up with anything you need as long as it isn't too big."

Half way through his explanation Ron stood and advanced on the pantry with a purpose. He opened the pine wood door and pulled out a bottle of Fire Whisky and three glasses. Hermione gave him a disapproving look as he set one of the glasses before her and filled it half-way. He repeated the process for both Harry and himself.

"Ronald,"

"What?" Ron raised his glass to his pissed off girlfriend. "We have a lot of work to do and should relax a bit while we can." Harry sniggered and raised his glass also.

"Cheers."

Both boys drank to Hermione's disgust. "Can we get back to work now, before you two get too drunk to be of any help?"

"'Course." Ron pulled the book in front of him. "How's the spell going to be split?"

Hermione chewed her lip for the moment. "I'm not really sure." She tapped her lower lip with her right index finger.

Harry decided that it was time to put his two cents in. "We don't really need to split the spell itself again. It's as simple as it's ever going to get anyway." Both Ron and Hermione stared at him. "What we need is not another caster, but someone else to donate their power to the spell so that it is not so draining on the casters."

"You mean like a battery." Hermione furrowed her brows. "Harry that's dark magic."

"Duh."

"Never mind. I guess if someone consents to it, it isn't such a bad thing."

"Yeah, just look at it as an exercise in trust." Hermione glared at Harry, while he smirked back at her.

"Guys," Ron interrupted. "I just have one question." Both Harry and Hermione turned to look at him. "What's a battery?"

"Ronald," Hermione huffed exasperated. "Your dad has hundreds of them."

Ron thought about it for a moment. "Oh, those little cylinder things that taste funny?"

Harry and Hermione exchanged a did-you-just-hear-what-I-heard look. "Yes Ron, those." Hermione cleared her throat and turned back to the book trying to ignore her boyfriend's stupidity. "Do we need to practice this… power transfer before we actually do it?"

Harry nodded. "It's kinda startling the first time. I'd rather not have someone panic. It's not just a transfer you know. We will actually be connected during the spell."

Hermione blinked at him. "But I thought…"

"I can just take the power, but it is more effective this way." Harry supposed that circles were not Hermione's strong point. He rose from his seat and walked over to one of the bookshelves. He scanned the shelves cursing himself for not devising some kind of way to organize his books. He would never admit it, but of all the Founders he had the worst organizational skills. His quill pen collection was probably still spread out over the castle proper. He scanned the next shelf relying on memory to find the right book. He found what he was looking for and pulled out a book on circle work. "Here," read up on this." He handed the book to Hermione who took it gingerly.

"Hey, I have another question. What are we going to do when we find Voldemort?" Ron asked, obviously not interested in the technicalities.

"I'm going to kill him."

Both Ron and Hermione jumped up at Harry's words. "How?" Ron asked eyes wide.

"That's for me to know…. You just watch the fireworks." Harry reached over and flipped the pages to the book he had given Hermione to the chapter on connecting. "This is basically what we will be doing."

Hermione read the short paragraph on the page. "It seems so easy." She reached out her hand to Harry, who met her half way. When their fingers touched both spoke the incantation written in the book. "_Universus." _A powder-blue light surrounded Hermione's fingers while a pitch black engulfed Harry's. The two different colors swirled around their hands before spreading to their entire bodies. "Oh!" Hermione wrenched her hand away and retreated a few steps before catching herself. "You're right that is startling."

"What happened?" Ron asked in wonder. "Did it work?"

"Yes, it did. But it will take some getting used to in order to hold it." Harry held up his hand once more. "Your turn, Ron?" Ron gulped and stepped up to Harry. He held up one shaking hand to touch his friends. "Just say it with me." Both boys repeated the spell and Ron felt a pressure push against his hand then rush over his body. But it was not the amount of power that made his eyes bulge. The power had its own distinct signature much like a flavor or a smell that could only be identified by magic.

Ron jumped away from Harry. "What-"

"That," Harry interrupted, "was my magic." He scratched his head trying to find a way to explain what they had felt. "Everyone's magic has a different feel to it. It's hard to put into words. Hermione feels like the taste of old parchment, and you Ron Feel like thick, creamy steel." They both looked at him strangely. "Well, what were your impressions of me?"

Ron and Hermione looked at each other before Hermione answered. "It's kinda like frozen honey and moss." She shrugged.

"It reminded me of that one time Fred mixed grass into my ice-cream." Ron supplied.

"Does that bother you?"

"No, it kinda tickles." Ron held his hand out to Hermione. "Might as well get this over with." The two of them repeated the spell and jumped apart at its completion, just like before.

"Does this happen every time?" Hermione asked exasperated.

"Only when you try it with someone new. You have to get used to a person before you can do any spell work with them." Harry shrugged his shoulders. "That's why stealing the power is much easier. All that is need there is to siphon off the power and convert it to your own –no adjustment period."

Hermione gave him a look before raising both her hands. "Well then, let's get used to each other."

Two hours later Ron threw his hands up in the air. "I can't do this. Why the hell is it so prickly?"

"Because you're getting frustrated. You have to remain calm in order to maintain a circle, right Harry?"

Harry nodded at Hermione. "That's why I have a head ache." He rubbed his forehead. "Maybe we should continue this tomorrow morning."

"But we have class tomorrow morning." Hermione protested.

"I'll skip." Hermione glared at Ron's declaration. "This is a tad bit more important than class 'Mione." Ron elaborated.

She sighed. "If we must."

Harry pulled three sleeping-bags out of the pantry. He handed a bright yellow one to Ron and gave Hermione a blue one keeping a maroon one for himself. He had no intention of hearing Ron complain about how much he hated maroon…again. "Great we'll sleep in here and try again in the morning."

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They spent all of the next day and the day after perfecting their small circle. Ron had problems surrendering his powers to either Harry or Hermione. His power kept "flaring" at the most inappropriate times leaving the other two with sever headaches. Surprisingly it was Hermione who had the most trouble with concentration. She would merge her power with Ron and Harry, and then, all of a sudden, get distracted by a new sensation or flux in the bond that she just had to analyze.

"Really 'Mione," Ron assumed the lecturing roll for once. "You just have to go with the flow. We both decided that since Harry knows the most about this that he would be the one doing all the work. All we have to do is stand there."

"Actually, Hermione will be helping with the spell." Harry drawled. "You will be the only one 'just standing there.'" Ron glared at him offended. Harry smiled and went in for the kill. "Besides, Hermione needs something to occupy her mind so that the circle will work at all." He heard Hermione give a huff from behind him. Harry loved ruffling people's proverbial feathers. Especially when it got them to work harder.

"Alright," Hermione clapped her hands decisively. "Let's do this again and get it right this time.

They formed the circle once more, touching fingertips. Magic swirled around them in waves of light, and then steadied. Harry checked the bond and sensing that it was strong took control of the pure magic. He held onto it a few minutes studying his friends. It seemed that the crash course in circle work was finally paying off. He let go of the magic and dispersed the power when he saw Hermione start to sweat.

"Whoa," Hermione staggered when the circle was gone. "That takes a lot out of a witch." Ron nodded in agreement at her side. Even Harry was feeling weary. "Will that be long enough?" She asked.

Harry nodded from where he had sat down on the floor. "It's a short spell seven minutes should be more than enough time to find Voldemort."

"What then?"

"Food," Ron interrupted.

"Ron this is important…"

Ron shook his head practically running for the pantry. "Food first; talk later." He passed out cups of pumpkin juice and set down a plate of sandwiches. Harry grabbed a sandwich, went back to the pantry, and pulled out a large plate of hot cinnamon rolls.

"You burn a lot of energy in circle work. Sandwiches wont help much. We need carbs.

Hermione nodded in understanding.

"Well, there goes my one shot at trying to eat healthy." Ron said with a shrug. He turned to Hermione. "What are carbs?"

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After clearing the plate of sandwiches, the sweet rolls, and the meat pies that appeared seemingly from nowhere, the three teens lounged on their respective sleeping bags. Hermione had put away the dishes by throwing them into the pantry. "You said it could conjure up anything. Why not a trash can?" She commented seeing Harry's incredulous stare.

_Why indeed?_ Harry thought. He lay back on the stack of pillows behind him. The number of blankets and pillows had mysteriously multiplied since they had set up camp on the floor. Each of them now had a healthy stack to lean against when awake and enough blankets to hide in while they slept. Hermione plopped down on her sleeping bag and pulled a pillow up under her chin. Ron was sprawled out across from her with one arm flung over his eyes.

"We should talk about what is going to happen after we cast the spell now." The other two looked at Harry in anticipation. He had not been very forthcoming about his plans. "When we find Voldemort I intend to apparate to that location so that I can challenge him."

Hermione frowned, "Won't the tracking spell weaken you?"

"Not with you two helping, besides the spell I intend to use to kill him doesn't require much power to cast. It only takes a lot of concentration."

"Then you are going to need us there too." Ron sat up meeting Harry's eyes with his own. "If you're going to be concentrating on a spell someone has to be there to protect you. Voldemort will not be alone. He will have Deatheaters at his beck and call."

"Ron's right." Hermione crossed her arms and put on her determined face. "We will be going with you."

Harry frowned. It was true that his plan had great risks where his survival was concerned, but he did not want to involve either Ron or Hermione if at all possible. "I don't think that that is a good idea…"

Harry was suddenly flat on his back looking up at Hermione where she straddled his chest. She grabbed the collar of his robes and jerked him up so that they were nose to nose. "We will be going with you, or you will not live long enough to face Voldemort. Understood?" Harry nodded his head completely nonplussed. "Say it." She demanded.

Harry gulped. He was not sure if Hermione could actually kill him, but it seemed as if she was going to give it a good try. "Understood," He repeated completely cowed by the crazed look in his friend's eyes.

"Good," Hermione said letting go of his collar. Harry fell back bumping his head on the floor. "Now, let's continue to practice. I don't think that achieving a circle once means we could do it again."

"Scary but effective," Harry rolled his eyes at Ron's statement of the obvious.

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It wasn't until the next day after a good night's rest that the trio decided to cast the actual spell. They formed the circle without any problems and Harry immediately took control of the power. He took out his wand and weaved a complicated pattern in the air that Hermione mirrored. She then knelt on the floor placing her hands in the circle that was drawn at her feet. Harry cast magic threads out in all directions and then fed the other end of the threads to Hermione. Harry was the one who would look after the threads and repair any that broke and to lead them over the topography of the land. It was not a hard job, but it did take a lot of concentration. Hermione was the one who read the threads looking for Voldemort's magical signature.

It took them just over six minutes to find Voldemort's signature. When they did Hermione fixated the spell so that an image of Voldemort filled the circle she was kneeling next to. Harry quickly moved behind her and memorized the musty looking parlor where Voldemort was seated in a chair. He was giving orders to Wormtail and did not seem too happy because the rat-like man began to writhe silently in pain as Voldemort pointed his wand at him.

"Okay, this is it. You guys ready?" At their nods Harry continued. I'm going to apparate us there. Try not to make any noise." With that he cast a silencing spell and an invisibility spell around the three of them."

"Why do we need a silencing spell if we are going to be quiet" Ron asked perplexed.

"The spell will keep us from making a popping sound when we appear behind Voldemort." Before another comment could be made the room was empty.

The three of them appeared in the room behind where Voldemort sat. In the last few minutes Wormtail had dragged in another poor soul for Voldemort to torture. Harry stared in shock as he recognized the blond head. Draco stared right into Voldemort's eyes, not backing down even though he was shaking like a leaf.

"So," Voldemort rasped. "You thought that you could plot against me, Little Malfoy." Long skeletal fingers reached out to grab Draco's pointed chin with bruising force. He leaned his face down close to the kneeling boy's.

"Boo," The soft whisper in his ear made Voldemort freeze.


	22. Chapter 22

Harry did not, in truth, want to get that close to Voldemort, and was, in fact, holding his breath as he made is presence known to the old snake. It merely seemed like a good entrance, and a good entrance was never to be wasted. He almost laughed out loud at the tableau he had orchestrated: Ron and Hermione standing behind him with shocked looks on their faces, Draco kneeling wide eyed and incredulous, and Voldemort squatted down before him with a twisted expression of displeasure on his face. In that instant Harry wanted nothing more than a muggle camera.

It took all of a second for Voldemort to react, lashing out behind him with his wand. A streak of red light shot past Harry's ear as he dodged to the side, cutting a line in the white plaster of the wall. Harry jumped back, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Potter, what the hell are you doing here?" The question came from the still kneeling Malfoy. The blond struggled to his feet wincing from the aches and bruises of his earlier beatings.

"That's a very good question, Mr. Malfoy." He then ignored the blonde completely. Harry turned to Voldemort and dropped into the old lecture mode that he used when he was mocking a class. "Hello Voldy, how did you enjoy the shadow hunt I sent you on?" Voldemort blinked in surprise. He could not fathom what Harry was talking about. "I mean Arisa, Old Snake. She doesn't exist."

Voldemort let out a soft growling hiss, but quickly gathered his wits. Harry Potter was well within his grasp, and it was past time for him to end the young boy's life. "Why Mr. Potter, it is so good to see you." Harry frowned at the greedy look in Voldemort's red eyes. "I must say that I was not expecting you to fall into my hands like this."

"Cut the crap." Harry tossed his head in agitation. "I merely want to end this power struggle between us. We both know that I am the Dark Lord, and I will kill you."

His eyes glowed with deadly intent. He pulled his wand out of his robes and leveled it at Voldemort.

Harry reached out with his hand in an attempt to grab onto Voldemort, but the snake was fast for his age and postmortem physique. His hand caught briefly on rough cloth before the robe was ripped from his hand. Another cutting curse was sent flying at his head. Harry barely managed to dodge the curse. "Ron, Hermione, make sure no one comes through the door," He called over his shoulder. Before he could turn to face Voldemort again a blast of air pressure knocked him back into the wall dazing him momentarily.

Once Voldemort's attention was fixed on Harry, Draco scrambled off to one side and took cover behind a decrepit lounge chair. He peaked out from his hiding place in time to see Voldemort throw Harry into the wall. He watched in fascination as Harry regained his feet almost immediately and threw a curse toward Voldemort that ripped open the snake's right shoulder. He glanced over to his right to see the Mudblood and Weasel holding off the Deatheaters, who had finally caught onto the fact that all was not right in the master's chambers.

A plan began to form in the back of Draco's mind. This was indeed a battle for supremacy between two Dark Lords, and one of them would die tonight. But the survivor would surely have given his all to win this battle. Draco pulled the scroll that contained the Dark Lord's Creed from a hidden pocket in his robes. All he had to do was wait for the right moment to recite the Creed. He could then finish off the weakened Dark Lord, and achieve the power and greatness he knew was his birth right.

Both of the Dark Lords were throwing curses at each other that Draco did not even recognize. The walls flashed lurid colors as magic whizzed across the room, only revealing deadly intent on impact with some hapless piece of furniture or wall. Harry was dodging all over the place in order to avoid spells. Voldemort just let most of the spells hit him seemingly unaffected by the gaping gashes in his body.

Draco slapped his hand over his mouth and gagged when a particularly nasty spell hit Voldemort in the left shoulder detaching his arm. The appendage fell to the wooden floor with a thump as a doll's arm would. It was the most disgusting thing Draco had ever seen in his life. The fact that Voldemort didn't bleed only made the scene more disturbing.

It seemed as if Voldemort was going to win this battle. Potter was tiring. No matter how many times he landed a blow it did not affect Voldemort. Even with one arm Voldemort was still casting spells as if he felt no pain at all.

Harry knelt on the ground breathing heavily. He knew that Voldemort didn't feel any pain, but usually there was some reaction to the loss of an arm. Sweat dripped down into his eyes as he gathered his thoughts.

"Not as easy as you thought, is it Potter, being the hero?" Voldemort hissed. "I don't believe that you were the one who was supposed to defeat me. Even if you did find the Creed it won't help you. You're just as worthless as that mudblood mother of yours or that disgrace to his family name that you call a father."

Harry completely ignored Voldemort's taunts. A few months ago such comments about his parents would have sent him into a rage; now he only felt a calculating calm. The winner of this battle would not be the one who wasted his breath on words, but the one who took action. He needed to be close enough to touch Voldemort. He really should have taken his chance in the beginning instead of taunting the snake.

He cuddled his wand arm to his body. A cutting curse had opened a long shallow gash on his forearm. It was not deep, but it was painful. He considered pulling out a knife, and quickly discarded the idea. A knife would do little damage against a nearly immortal being.

A sudden smile blossomed across his face as an idea came to him. Even someone who did not feel pain needed legs in order to stand. Not taking his time with easily countered hexes or jinxes, Harry threw an exploding curse at Voldemort's legs, one that would incinerate everything below the knee.

The curse hit, and Voldemort fell to the floor with a surprised yell. Harry stood from his kneeling position and carefully walked over where Voldemort thrashed. As he gazed down on the man who had killed thousands of people, including his own parents, and terrorized an entire world, only one word ran through his mind: pathetic.

Harry stepped on Voldemort's one hand crushing the wrist. His eyes glowed green with his power. Fear entered Voldemort's eyes for the first time as Harry lowered himself and placed a hand on his forehead.

"You are no heir of mine." A blank look of incomprehension flashed over Voldemort's face at Harry's words, but Harry did not feel charitable enough to enlighten him on the subject. As far as Harry was concerned, the old wizard could and would die not knowing what he had meant.

Harry sent all of his magic into Voldemort calling out to his blood within the body. He had to hurry; it would not take long for Voldemort's body to heal. Already its legs had begun to regenerate.

The magical link between the blood and the body that produced it had degenerated over the years, but the blood still recognized its own. Harry poured his power into the blood and sent a telekinetic shock along the link. If his experiment worked correctly the shock would counter act the original spell that Voldemort had cast, and Harry's blood would reject the body.

Harry was concentrating so hard on maintaining the link that he only realized that Voldemort was dead when his hand sank into a puddle of shapeless goop. "Yuck!" He pulled hand out of the puddle that had once been the Dark Lord Voldemort, and wiped the slimy substance on his robes.

"Harry?" Hermione queried from where she and Ron were guarding the door. She had her wand at the ready, but her eyes were turned to Harry in concern.

"It's over." Harry looked at his friends who only stared back at him in shocked disbelief. None of them knew what to do next. Then Harry felt it: an incessant pulse in the back of his mind. It was the same pulse that he had lived with for the last fifteen years. Someone else had read the Dark Lord's Creed.

Harry sighed. He was exhausted, bleeding in several places and magically drained. He did not know if he could survive an attack right then. He turned to see Draco standing up from behind the chair he had been hiding behind and cursed. He should have expected this to happen, but the truth was he hadn't thought Draco was intelligent enough or brave enough to do it.

Draco placidly wiped the dust off his robes and came to stand before a still kneeling and panting Harry. "Well Potter, I can't say it has been fun, but I did learn a lot from you." Draco grinned with his wand pointed at Harry. "Call off your watch dogs." He nodded in Ron and Hermione's direction. The two of them stood tense, wands pointed at Draco but were too afraid of Harry getting hurt if they acted.

Harry drew in a deep breath in order to calm himself. He had nothing left to fight with. Anything he did was sure to end in his death, but he could not die before Draco or Ron and Hermione wouldn't stand a chance. The power boost alone that Draco would receive at his death would assure their deaths. It seemed that it was time for one of his selfless acts. "Ron, Hermione, kill him." All three of them stared at him incredulous. "Doesn't worry about me just make sure Draco _does not_ leave here alive." He met his friends' eyes trying with all his might to convey his reasons for doing this.

"Master!" The sudden, loud cry caused all four teens to jump and turn to the door. Wormtail blundered into the room toward the puddle that had once been his Master. "You all will pay for this." He cried with tears in his eyes. "I will kill you myself, I the Dark Lord's most faithful servant-"

A flash of green light filled the room. "There," Draco pulled up his wand from where it was pointed at Pettigrew. "That takes care of him." He smiled smugly, and then suddenly found himself on the floor. "What the…" He tried to find his lost wand but found that it was in Hermione's hand. She had thrown a stunning curseat him while he had been distracted.

Harry seized the given opportunity and pulled his wand from his robe. "Avada kedavra." Draco fell to the floor dead. The pulse in the back of Harry's head ceased, and he fell into unconsciousness.

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Harry woke dazed and confused. His head hurt and his body felt like it always had after a day of Dudley's "Harry Hunting." He kept his eyes closed not entirely sure that he could handle the bright lights of the hospital wing at the moment. But where ever he was did not smell like the hospital wing. The bed he was in was much more comfortable than the ones he remembered anyway. He plucked at the frayed comforter beneath his hand. The soft texture was soothing to his nerves. He cracked open one eyelid to see his old room in his cottage in the Forbidden Forest.

"Harry," Hermione's concerned voice reached his ears. "You're awake."

"Yeah," he answered turning his head so that he could see her better. "What happened?" He rubbed his forehead trying to sooth the ache.

"You fainted, and we brought you back here." Harry watched her swallow hard. "Ron burned down the house that we were in. He said that it was better that way."

Harry nodded. "I agree. Where is Ron?"

"He went back to Hogwarts." Harry opened his mouth to ask another question, but Hermione forestalled him. "You need to eat something." She stood hurriedly and practically dashed out of the room. Harry sat up in the bed supporting himself on his arms and blinked at the door where she had disappeared. A few moments passed in a limbo before Hermione returned with a tray. She sat the tray across Harry's knees and piled pillows behind his head so that he could sit up.

Harry carefully watched her as she sat back down in the chair placed next to his bed. He then deliberately picked up his fork and took a bite of the eggs on his plate. "Why did Ron go back to Hogwarts?" He asked after he had swallowed.

Hermione chewed on her lower lip before answering. "He went to inform Dumbledore of Voldemort's death."

Harry met her eyes. "Are you crazy? Is he crazy?"

"We owe them that much. The Wizarding World deserves to know that Voldemort is dead." Hermione smiled at him. "Don't worry. I made a port key from one of the books I found in your library. It should bring Ron back here when he is done, Hogwarts wards or no…"

Harry nodded in understanding. "So, you two are outlaws now too."

Hermione nodded. "It was quite obvious where we went when we left, and I did leave a note for Ginny. We are in this together."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I'm going to travel the world now, and learn other cultures' magic techniques. It'll be fun." Hermione smiled sadly. "Perhaps it is time that I got out of the library and started to explore the world around me." She laughed when Harry raised a disbelieving eyebrow at her. "Don't get me wrong I'm not going to stop reading, not by a long shot, but I think it would be fun to travel too. Ron would be coming with me of course."

"Of course," Harry answered around a smile.

"What about you Harry? What are you going to do?"

Harry sat back from the breakfast he had been eating. "I'm more of a home body. I think I'm going to stay here for a while and then sneak my way back into Hogwarts."

"So you won't be coming with us."

"No, you two deserve some time alone together." Hermione blushed at his words. "But I will drop in from time to time if you don't mind."

"How will you do that if we keep moving around like the fugitives we are?"

Harry smiled at her. "I know both your magical signatures, remember. I can find you anywhere in the world. And if you tried you should be able to find me." He paused for a moment remembering something. "I also have a couple of communication mirrors in my closet; we can use those to keep in touch."

"That sounds nice; I wouldn't feel right leaving you alone."

"I won't be." Harry said with a mysterious smile.

Before Hermione could ask him what he meant Ron burst through the door. "Hey there mate, glad to see you're okay." He turned to Hermione. "We are officially on the Most Wanted Wizards list, and Dumbledore is going to check out that old house. He's not going to like what he is going to see." He looked down at Harry. "I don't know if you realized this Harry, but 'Mione and I killed a lot of Deatheaters while you were fighting the Old Snake."

Harry bowed his head. "I'm sorry."

"Nothing to worry about." Ron looked at Hermione. "Have you told him about our plans?"

"Yes Ron, he's not coming."

"What? Are you sure Harry?"

"Yes, I am."

Ron gazed at his hands for a moment. "Well if you're sure."

"We will keep in touch, and you can come back to visit any time." Harry assured him.

"You're staying here?" Harry nodded in answer.

"Well, as long as you tell us when you leave." They all laughed and Harry promised profusely to contact Ron at least every week.

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One week had passed since Ron and Hermione had left. Harry sat in a comfortable chair in front of the fire place with a mirror cradled in his hands. He looked out the window at the falling snow. In a couple of more weeks it would be Christmas. Ron and Hermione had promised to pop in with gifts so that they could celebrate as a family. Harry could not wait to see them both in person once more. He missed them so much already, but they seemed to be having fun in Spain.

Harry glanced at the window once more. She should have shown up by now. He placed the mirror on the side table and strode over to the window to get a better look outside. "As impatient as ever," a low melodic voice commented from behind him.

He did not turn around, but a smile found its way onto his face. "What can I say? It's been a thousand years, and I've missed you."

Slender arms wrapped themselves around his waist. "A thousand years without you. This is what I get for choosing a mortal lover." Harry turned around to stare into the most amazing pair of grey-blue eyes he had ever seen. "At least you were right about returning to this school one day."

Harry snorted. "I always return home. I told you on my death bed that I would come back to you. And even better my spell worked." He reached up to touch her pointed ears. "Rowan, this time I will find a spell to make me immortal. I won't be leaving you again."

Rowan smiled and kissed him. "Good. But what about your friends?"

"What about them?"

"Will you tell them who_ they_ were in a past life?"

Harry frowned in consideration. "No, I will not tell Ron and Hermione that they were once Godric Gryffindor and Rowena Ravenclaw, there is no need for them to know." He sighed heavily. "Besides the personality changes could turn them against me again, as they did when they found out that I was the Dark Lord a thousand years ago. I'm not going to let that happen again. I keep those who are important to me." He ran his fingers down Rowan's cheek. "I'm just selfish like that."


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